Journey to the East
by MTibbs89
Summary: In one night, Adanji loses her closest friend, fails a heist, and bears witness to the crumbling of her dreams. Little does she know that a carriage and a boat ride away, her life is about to become a lot harder. (Rated a hard T for language, violence, sexual references, drug references, and alcohol)
1. Prologue: A Fateful Heist

This is a personal writing project based on the events of The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind.

I do not own Morrowind.

Morrowind, its characters and plot (C) Bethesda Softworks

Adanji and Swims (C) Mari Tibbals

_"Each event is preceded by Prophecy._

_But without the hero,_

_there is no Event."_

_-Zurin Arctus | the Underking_

**A Fateful Heist**

They had been watching the door for what felt like hours, and it was beginning to get dark. It would not be too long before Palonirya would be leaving her clothing shop, The Divine Elegance, sure to lock it up tightly behind her before heading on over to Green Emperor Way to meet with her not-so-secret love, Sergius Verus. It was a sort of weekly ritual for the Altmer and it was not uncommon for her to be out most of the night, sneaking back to her quaint home above her shop early in the morning, with the hopes that no one would notice. It just so happened that the seemingly unassuming beggars who wandered the streets _had_ noticed, and knew a great deal about the woman– a great deal about many things, in fact– and had been all too happy to divulge this information on her schedule for a modest sum of five septims.

Adanji, the gray-furred Khajiit who had initially been waiting with bated breath, found herself getting bored. She sighed and shifted her weight, her legs tingling with pins and needles as the feeling began to come back into them.

"Shouldn't be long now," Her Argonian companion, Swims-In-Dark-Waters muttered, noticing her discomfort, "Unless she's already left and you missed her."

The Khajiit let out a quick, short hiss, her version of a snort, "If you want to take watch, be my guest. We should switch soon anyway, lest we look too suspicious and the guards take note." Most people wouldn't notice it, unless they were paying close attention, but the Khajiit had a slight lisp. Like her Argonian family, she had developed the tendency to linger just a little bit longer on 's' sounds than was normal.

"The guards are always suspicious of Khajiit," Swims noted, just before dropping his voice to a whisper and elbowing her sharply in the ribs, "Speaking of…" The flickering light of a torch announced the presence of a guard rounding the corner into the plaza and walking in their general direction.

Adanji immediately averted her gaze from Palonirya's shop and busied herself with appearing as innocent as possible, beginning a random conversation about mudcrabs with Swims (annoying creatures…), and only dropped the charade when the guard completely passed them by, having only given them a single, suspicious glance with a raised brow before continuing on his patrol.

"I think he agrees with you," Adanji said, feeling that the guard would not have given a second thought to two humans loitering in the street. "I hope she won't be much longer. You sure Old Dran's information was good?" No-Coins Draninus, or 'Old Dran' to pretty much everyone who knew him, was a down-on-his-luck Imperial who had once been in the Legion before taking an arrow in the knee– or so he claimed. He seemed a pleasant enough fellow, if a little crazy, but Adanji wasn't sure how well he could be trusted, especially if his stories about having been a city guard held any truth.

"Nnn, can't say that I am, but at this point, I'll take what information I can get."

"Oh. _Brilliant._"

The Argonian said nothing. When Adanji got particularly sarcastic, which happened often, he would consider the conversation closed. If he did not, the two would wind up arguing for hours until nothing but dry insults remained. He sometimes wasn't even sure how they were friends, what with their near-constant bickering at this point, but theirs was a bond that went back to their childhood, even further back than their desires to join the Thieves Guild. He remembered how his elder brother, Hides-His-Heart, would tell them such tales about the exploits of the legendary Gray Fox– the longtime leader of the guild. The faceless, elusive man with a talent for finding luck- or for avoiding misfortune.

Hides-His-Heart had instilled such a hero worship for the man in their hearts that the two would often create games in which they pulled off impossible heists, always against equally impossible odds, and always together. In these games, they would usually give their treasure to the poor, a common ending in Hides-His-Heart's tales of the Gray Fox, and keep only enough to afford shelter and decent food. Over the years, of course, such romanticism dwindled, and their games became aspirations, the ending only one in which they became absurdly rich or died trying. They still dreamed, of course, but since Hides had died such dreams seemed more like idle fantasy, convenient for nothing more than pushing them onward toward their goals.

"There!" Adanji pulled Swims out of his reminiscing with the hissed word and a flick of her tail, drawing his attention to the shop. They both ducked down behind the nearby stacks of crates and barrels that served as the Market District's storage as Palonirya left her shop, locking it securely behind her. Adanji shifted just enough so that she could peek over her cover and watch the Altmer to make sure she'd leave. The woman seemed rather shifty, glancing over her shoulder on the odd occasion. Despite how dark it was she didn't even carry a lamp or a torch, such was her desire not to be noticed, but Adanji's jade-green Khajiit eyes could clearly see in the darkness. The duo waited a few minutes after the Altmer was completely out of sight before making their way to The Divine Elegance, and Adanji crouched at the door while Swims kept watch.

"Hurry…" Swims urged under his breath.

Adanji glanced around, having just pulled out her lock picks, and saw no sign of guards. She understood the lizard's apprehension, though. Even if no patrol came by, there was always the competition. Swims and Adanji were not the only ones seeking entry into the guild, and while it was strictly forbidden for members to kill on a job, she wasn't sure how well such rules were enforced- or even if they applied in this 'entrance exam.'

Of course, being murdered by a rival or caught by a watchman wasn't the only thing that could go wrong. Palonirya could return unexpectedly, having forgotten something, or one of their rivals could very well have already been there and taken the treasure, at which point the two would fail the test and be forced to try again later– assuming there even was a later. Then they would have to go through all the trouble of finding the rendezvous point (which changed constantly) all over again to hear the details of the next test, which would be vague enough that they would need to pay Old Dran yet another five septims for more precise information. All in all, it felt as if there was a great deal riding on this one night and too much that could ruin everything.

The sound of a click snapped Adanji's ears to attention as the final tumbler had been knocked into place and the door was unlocked. Smiling to herself, she put her fears aside and swung open the door as silently as she could, then she and Swims slid in swiftly and shut it behind them.

"Any idea what these Quicksilver Boots look like?"

"I think they're made of glass?" He shrugged, "They're supposed to be nearly weightless and give you unnatural speed."

"That should narrow it down…" Adanji stalked over to the counter and had a peek around, resisting the urge to simply pocket every piece of jewelry on display and leave. Like many high elves, Palonirya had a taste for the finer things and as such sold only the highest quality merchandise. The necklaces, rings and bracelets on display were clearly made of the finest metals, and the gems that glittered in their sockets were flawless. They sparkled in the silvery moonlight filtering through the slats of the window blinds. Adanji glanced up at the little colored pinpricks of light, like stars, the gems refracted against the ceiling. Along the walls were mannequins adorned in striking, delicate silks imported from Summerset Isle. There were dresses that shimmered in the brightest blues, the deepest reds, and one that was a vivid peacock green. One particular dress that caught the Khajiit's eye was one of black silk adorned with red velvet and trimmed with gold lace. She had seen similar dresses worn by noblewomen attending royal parties- not that she had ever been to such a party herself.

"You want to try one on? I'm sure there's plenty of time." The Argonian had seen the hunger in Adanji's eyes, and this was his way of pulling her back into reality.

Adanji shook her head, "No, there really isn't. Besides, my fur would cling to it and she would know we were here."

"Good. I don't see the boots in here. We should keep looking." He made his way toward the stairs which led to the shop owner's private quarters then stopped, peering back at Adanji, "Don't worry. If we pull this off you'll be able to afford gowns like that in no time." He smiled- as much as an Argonian could smile, with their reptilian mouths- and continued up the stairs before Adanji could respond.

She shrugged, pretending she didn't honestly care about such finery, although she knew there was no fooling her old friend, and followed the lizard up.

Palonirya's personal quarters, while compact, were luxuriously decorated. Tapestries covered the windows, casting the room in reddish shadows, dancing in the lanternlight from the streets below. An intricately designed red and blue silk rug spanned half the room. Occupying its far corner, in front of the right window, was a bed adorned with a green velvet duvet. At the foot of the bed sat an antique chest and to its right, along the wall, was a wide, towering bookshelf filled with trinkets, bits and baubles. Various other furnishings, including a smaller bookshelf, a desk, a sewing station, and a dining table spilling over with fruit, wine and cheese, filled out the remaining space in the room. There were plenty of places where the boots could be hiding.

"How much are you willing to bet the boots are in that chest?" Swims said.

"Ha! I doubt it would be that easy…" Adanji strode to the chest, gripped its lid firmly, and pulled up- it did not budge. "Of course it's locked."

"You did say it would not be easy."

"Shush." Adanji pulled out her trusty lock picks and busied herself with the mechanism. She found that this particular lock was more difficult to pick, with extra tumblers to knock into place. After several tries, and almost as many bent or broken picks, Adanji successfully picked the lock and immediately opened the chest- only to find bolts of fabric. It was certainly high quality fabric, being a rare, Tyrian purple, and likely very expensive- no doubt planned for use in future finery- but it was not at all what the thieves intended to filch.

"Has it crossed your mind to, maybe, just steal as much from her shop as we can carry and fence it somewhere?" She was speaking rhetorically, of course. The Thieves Guild would offer them more riches than just one raid on a noblewoman's belongings, and of course would make it easier to locate a fence, but all of the items in the store were worth a small fortune on their own. The problem was that their test restricted them to stealing one specific item. The expression on Swims' face clearly voiced that line of thought, "Never mind."

The Argonian shook his head, muttered something to himself, then launched into the many reasons it would be a bad thing to simply take what they wanted, and the many benefits of the Guild, even though Adanji had heard it all before, "…sure, these trinkets seem like a lot right now, but when we join the Guild they will point us in the direction of greener fields, or however it is that Imperial phrase goes," Swims said with a wave of his hand, "And then we will be rich in no time. Even better, they will offer us protection- an entire family looking out for our best interests..." His eyes glazed over as they often did when he fantasized about the more romantic views of the guild. Adanji wasn't sure it would be as grand as all that, and certainly did not think a 'family' of thieves could be trusted, but she did see the advantages. Having heard her friend's ramblings many times before, she tuned him out as he continued on that tangent and they both renewed their search for the boots.

Half an hour passed, Swims had finished rambling, and they had turned the room over with no sign of the Quicksilver Boots. The only thing they had accomplished was to leave the room looking as if some mage had gone wild casting spells about the place, with items overturned, sacks emptied, crates tipped over. Adanji was surprised they had not met any competition yet and was beginning to worry that, perhaps, the boots had already been taken.

"I don't think the boots are up here," she said forlornly.

"We should check the cellar, at least…" Swims started toward the bedroom door, then stopped and placed a reassuring hand on Adanji's shoulder. "We should have plenty of time. If we don't find the boots by the time the sun comes up we can leave."

* * *

"Always in the last place you look, isn't it?"

"You found them?" Adanji's tufted ears perked up as the Argonian lifted the boots from a crate, brushing off the protective bits of straw. "Good!" She took them from him with little protest and examined them closely, heart thudding in excitement. They were indeed beautiful boots, a lovely shade of green, obtained only through a great deal of time and patience on the part of the smith who smelted and worked the malachite, purging it of any impurities. Silver inlays in the glass created a floral pattern on the shins, ivy vines sweeping back around the calves and ankles. The leather had been expertly crafted, intricate details pressed or stitched into it by skilled hands. Adanji assumed it must have been a collaborative work between the elf and some renowned smith. Palonirya had presumably been the one to work the leather and the stitchings on it. The only drawback was that the boots had been made for human or elf feet, and neither Adanji nor Swims could test them out- their enchantment would have been useful for outrunning guards.

But if all went well, they wouldn't need to.

"We should leave now, before the elf gets back," Adanji said, the tension finally getting to her. She had been having a bad feeling all night and now that they finally had the boots she felt the need to get out while they still could. All that remained was to get the boots to Armand Christophe, the Guild doyen who had given them the task, and their initiation would be complete.

"We have plenty of time..." Swims started, but then quieted down and after a moment nodded, "But yes, we wouldn't want to tempt fate, would we?" He took the boots and led the way back up the cellar stairs to the shop, and they both stopped short of the exit. Adanji's fur stood on end.

"_Xhuth!" _Swims cursed under his breath.

The windows were alight with the flickering yellow glow of torches. Someone was waiting for them.

"Could be Armond..." Swims said quietly in an attempt to calm himself, missing his usual air of optimism.

Adanji doubted it. They were meant to meet Armond behind the Arena at midnight the next day. It would be too much to hope that this might just be competition- unless the other initiates were stupid enough to try sneaking around at night with lit torches. Palonirya wanted her trysts with her imperial lover to be kept secret, so she would not give away her position with a lit torch either; She hadn't even taken one with her when she left. Had to be guards.

There was a sudden, loud bang as whoever stood outside rapped on the door. "Come out! We know you're in there!"

"How come nothing can be easy?" Adanji muttered under her breath, eyes darting around in search for escape. There was none; the entire back of Palonirya's shop was a stone wall, but for one high, narrow window that, based on the lack of hinges, could not be swung open. The glass would be difficult- if not impossible- to break at the angle from which they'd be attempting escape, and assuming they could even fit through such a narrow space, they would surely cut themselves to pieces. The windows at the front of the shop were not much better, and would lead straight into the guards' arms anyway.

Adanji briefly thought about fleeing to Palonirya's quarters and blockading themselves inside, but both of the room's windows opened to a sheer drop into the lower streets that even a Khajiit acrobat would be unlikely to jump without injury. The blockade would only serve to irritate the guards and slow the pair's imminent doom. The Khajiit heaved a frustrated, resigned sigh and approached the door. "Put the boots down," she whispered over her shoulder before grasping the knob and wrenching it open.

She flinched as she was met with a blade hovering inches from her face. "Is there a problem?" She squeaked, before attempting to regain control of her voice. The guard did not look amused. "Ahem, we were, ah, hired to keep watch of Palonirya's shop for her. She's out on business, so-"

"Shut up and hand over the boots."

"What?" Adanji gazed over her shoulder to Swims, who shrugged- he had not put the boots down, but they were hidden behind his back. She glanced back at the guard and saw, peeking over his shoulder, the face of a smirking Bosmer woman- whom she recognized. She could not recall the wood elf's name, but she had been at the meetup with Armond, and was competition. Or perhaps a spy in the Imperial Watch?

"See? I told you they would be here."

"You–" Adanji could not finish her accusation, as Swims darted past her with the boots in hand. She barely heard him shouting over his shoulder for her to follow before he was cut down by one of the guards.

At that moment it was as if time stopped, yet the world was spinning so fast it was all but a whirl before her eyes. In an instant she found herself on her knees, cradling her friend's dying body in her arms. Crimson soaked her hands as she pressed her palms into the wound to stop the bleeding. She could feel his chest rising and falling- too quickly- then a shudder, and an unnatural stillness. Her heart felt like a stone. There was an immense, burning heat within her gut but the rest of her was bitter cold. Swims was…

"On your feet!"

Adanji stared blankly up at the guard. This was all just a terrible dream, right? She would wake up and Swims would be right there, ready to launch into another scheme to get them into the Guild. Everything felt so numb. Somewhere nearby, she could hear the Bosmer and one of the guards exchanging words in hushed tones, and was vaguely aware of some compensation being paid, but nothing really seemed to register. Perhaps that just meant she was waking up, and the nightmare was ending?

The guards hauled her roughly to her feet. She did not resist, instead shuffling right along with them as they led her down the streets, through the imposing gates out of the Market District, and out of the Imperial City, toward the prison. As they drew closer and closer to the dreaded place, she became more and more aware that this was no dream. She was, in fact, being arrested, and that meant Swims was very much dead, or dying, his blood still spilling onto the street. Passersby would remark in disgust, but no one of import would mourn him. He would be dragged away at some point in the morning, unceremoniously dumped into an unmarked grave, and would be forgotten. His greatest dream of becoming a legend, like the Gray Fox, would never be realized. As the reality of the situation dawned on her, she finally broke down.

She was unsure how long processing took; it could have been hours or minutes. She did not care. She just stumbled through their probing questions, staring blankly at the desk in front of her the whole time, only blinking occasionally when her vision blurred with tears. Why did Swims have to run? She might have been able to talk their way out of it, if he had remained calm. He was supposed to be the calm, confident one, after all. Even if she had not been able to talk the guards down, surely giving up without a fight would have been better than needlessly resisting and being met with a blade through the gut. There had been so much blood, she just couldn't cope. She had been so certain it had all been a dream, but now... Swims, her best friend and blood-brother was dead. She would never see him again. A lump formed in her throat, making it difficult to answer the guard-captain's queries.

The captain's voice droned on and on, uncaring, as if nobody had died. There were the traditional questions, about family or friends who might have money and could bail her out– not for her sake, of course. If someone bailed her out that meant extra money for the guards and the city, and compensation for Palonirya's property damages. But there was no family that Adanji could speak of, and none of those she might call friends were any better off than she was, every last one of them either being beggars or petty thieves who were not backed by the Guild. There were still more questions after that, mostly regarding her background, all of which felt utterly pointless, and then finally they came to the questions of her crime, her past crimes, and her admission of guilt for their precious records.

At the end of it all, she was led to her cell; A miniscule, dreary room at the back of the dungeon. The cell had few furnishings to speak of– just a scant pile of straw and a thin scrap of fabric which could barely be called a bed and a bucket in the corner– and a tiny, barred window high out of reach, water steadily trickling through from some unknown source outside. The guard escorting her didn't even give her a chance to cooperate, assuming she would not, and shoved her inside with enough force that she went sprawling to her knees, then slammed the iron-barred door behind her.

* * *

It would be three days before Adanji could sleep. Mostly due to grief keeping her up at night and partially due to the catcalls and gibes of the other prisoners. One in particular, a rather irritating dark elf, seemed unable to shut up. The Dunmer made constant racist remarks to both her and other prisoners, and kept insisting that she would die in prison, attempting to frighten her with tales of guards taking the prisoners out to torture and rape them. It only ever got quiet when a guard would finally come by and yell at them to cut the chatter.

Time seemed to stand still in the dungeon. Minutes passed like hours and hours like days. After a while her pain dulled and she was left simply feeling numb, only occasionally relapsing into sharp pangs of grief when she would dwell too long on what she had lost. She had been there almost two months when one morning armed guards woke her with a loud rap on her cell door, before swinging it open.

"Come, prisoner, and don't make any sudden moves," the guard at her door commanded, one hand gripping the hilt of his blade. Were they releasing her? She wondered, but she saw clearly they intended to cuff her the moment she was out of her cell and lead her... was she to be executed, then? She stood, shaking, and slowly made her way to the waiting guards, heart pounding. She had assumed she wouldn't mind dying, after the loss of her friend and only family. It would have been a release and maybe the next life– assuming there was one– would be better, but now that the guards were here... No, she was getting ahead of herself, wasn't she? Execution was not a punishment for thieves, but for murderers. Then why did they put her in shackles as they made their way out of the prison? She had been incarcerated before, briefly, and when they released her it had never involved chains- just rough handling and holier-than-thou lectures.

As they passed by his cell the loudmouth dunmer made some final catcalls and shouted after her gleefully that she was going to die, which the guards neither confirmed nor denied as they exited the prison and slammed the door behind them, cutting the Dunmer's cries short. An ear-shattering clap of thunder rolled across the sky when they got outside, and fat drops of rain instantly soaked Adanji's spotted fur and pinged against the guards' armor. Adanji smiled grimly; it was as if they sky was mourning for her, though she was certain no one else would.

She was shocked and more than a little confused when the guards led her to a hidden passage out of the Prison's courtyard walls, rather than through the main gates leading to the City, where executions were held publicly. "Where are you taking me?" She asked, suddenly suspicious. Perhaps she simply was not worth a public execution and they just wanted to get it over with, gutting her and dumping her into Lake Rumare? The guards did not answer her, nor did they draw their blades. Instead, they marched her along the wall, stopping at a waiting carriage- one that was clearly built for prisoner transport, as it had rough wooden slats forming a cramped cage and a heavy iron lock on the door.

Were they moving her to another prison? That seemed the most obvious explanation but it made no sense. Prisoner transport was expensive, and usually reserved only for carrying the most infamous of bandits and murderers to their execution- usually _to_ the Imperial City, not away from it. Clearly the guards were up to something shifty- slave trade, perhaps? It was illegal in Cyrodiil but she had heard that in some provinces, the trade was still allowed and quite lucrative. Adanji leaned back against restraining hands with her full weight– not much considering her scrawny size– digging her claws into the ground, "I demand to know where you're taking me!" It came out as a rather unthreatening squeak and the guards ignored her again, shoving her forcibly into the waiting carriage and locking her in.

It did not take Adanji long to realize that asking questions would get her nowhere, and decided it would be a bad idea to pester her captors who seemed to be of a foul disposition. Save for the spattering of rain and the occasional booming thunder or grumbling guard, the journey was a quiet one. The carriage rolled and bounced along the gravel roads which seemed to stretch for an eternity beyond the gloom.

They stopped briefly at an inn in the middle of nowhere, where the tired horses were exchanged for fresh ones, as were the guards. Adanji noticed the leader of the old group handing a satchel over to one of the new guards and they exchanged hushed words before continuing on their way. She had no more luck getting information from this group than she had the previous one, but this time at least the leader had bothered to answer her with a rather final-sounding "That's privileged information." Adanji felt that, as the information clearly involved her, she was entitled to some answers, but thought it wise not to voice that opinion.

The trip took the whole night and the better part of the following morning. Adanji had just managed to drift off into an uneasy sleep when she felt the carriage roll to a stop. The sound of gulls calling through the mist and waves crashing on the shore told the Khajiit they were near the ocean, which meant– if they were still in Cyrodiil– they were either in Leyawiin or Anvil. On closer inspection, blinking the sleep from her eyes, she saw they were outside the high stone walls of a city and saw a row of docks with huge ships and boats bobbing about in the water, causing the ships' bells to ring softly through the air. She wasn't sure if Leyawiin even had docks, so she was pretty sure this was Anvil.

Adanji watched closely as two of the guards met with a ship's captain, straining her ears in a vain attempt to hear what they were whispering about. She noted that they kept glancing at her as they spoke. If she had been apprehensive before, now she felt a sense of dread. She flinched and tensed up when the door to her carriage swung open with a loud creak and two guards grabbed her by the arms and hauled her out and to her feet. She barely felt any more the pain that had settled in her back and legs from the cramped space she'd been sitting in for the past few hours. She was too focused on what the guards were planning and the contents of the official-looking papers that were being handed off to the captain. She craned her neck over her shoulder, attempting to get a better view of those papers as the guards pushed her past the group. They led up a ramp and onto a battered, dingy ship she had hardly noticed until they took her down a hatch, cutting off her view.

The sight of the brig erased the image of the papers from Adanji's mind completely. There were dank, iron-barred cells along the walls, each filled with rather nasty-looking men and women of various races, many of whom appeared sick and frail, and the place reeked of vomit and excrement. It would have been ill-lit were it not for all the cracks in the hull, giving Adanji a nice view of the turbulent black clouds outside and an uneasy feeling that the voyage ahead would kill her. She was led along the cells and put in the large one at the back, which gave her a single cellmate- a bald Dunmer with a scar over his right eye, who was snoring soundly in a corner.

Not wishing to wake the Dunmer– as she had no way of knowing how dangerous he was– she slunk over to a relatively clean corner and sat down, wrapping her arms and tail around her knees and staring out of one of the cracks in the hull. It was oddly cool for late-Sun's Height, and unusually rainy.

* * *

The journey took a little over two weeks. While Adanji didn't speak much, she had learned through overhearing snippets of conversation that her cellmate's name was Jiub, and that he had been a freelance assassin that had botched his last contract, getting caught in the process. He had apparently been in the Imperial City's prison about the same time as Adanji had, but she had simply not noticed him. She had also learned bits and pieces about other prisoners, but didn't care as much because she did not share a cell with them. Of all the things she could have learned, she had never been told where she was going. Prisoners came and went as they made stops at unknown locations, and because they were never brought enough food, many died midway through the voyage from malnourishment or dehydration- the latter of which Adanji and Jiub had been able to stave off by drinking rain water that poured through the cracks in the upper deck like a miniature waterfall during the heavier storms.

The Khajiit's last day on the ship saw the worst storm yet. They had been sailing smoothly for the first time for what seemed like less than an hour when, quite suddenly, the sky turned black and massive waves smashed into the ship at all sides, torrents of rain crashing down with the force of a battering ram. The ship lurched and the prisoners were tossed about. Jiub had managed to take hold of the bars of their cell, holding on for dear life, but Adanji was not so fortunate. While she had managed to dig her claws into the slick wooden floor on the first hit, the second lurch caught her mid-run to the bars and she was thrown backwards– clawing futily at the air where she was certain she had seen Jiub's outstretched hand. For an instant she seemed to float, weightless, until she slammed into the hull with a sickening crunch.

All went black.

* * *

**((AN: I will be trying to update this story twice a month, and have written 8 chapters in advance for padding. I apologize ahead of time if that plan goes down the toilet due to real life. Please be patient. Also, if you enjoyed the story so far, or hated it, please review and offer constructive criticism. Tell me at least one thing that is good and one thing I could work on, this way I can improve. I'll especially appreciate comments on specific moments. If you find a way I can improve wording, or grammatical errors, I will try to fix those quickly. I would like to write for a living one day. Thanks for reading!))**


	2. Ch1: Stranger in a Strange Land

**Stranger in a Strange Land**

**_'I_**_n the waning years of the Third Era of Tamriel, a prisoner born on a certain day_

_to uncertain parents was sent under guard, without explanation, to Morrowind,_

_ignorant of the role she was to play in that nation's history…'_

* * *

_The Khajiit was floating. Somewhere in the distance, a part of her was aware of a great deal of movement and noise, but none of it seemed important. Before her stretched miles of an unknown, dead land. A blue, transparent wall composed of magical energy surrounding an ominous-looking volcano caught her eye. Drums echoed from the heart of the volcano, an eerie, steady beat. Her feet touched the soft, ashy ground and the world began to shake, the sky overhead turning red as it was choked with ash. _

_ "Where am I?" Adanji wondered aloud. _

_ The land about her shifted and melted away and she was taken to a lake rippling from raindrops. But when she looked up, the sky was clear and filled with stars. A warm, yet powerful, feminine voice entered the cat's thoughts and echoed around her, as if coming from all directions. _

_ "They have taken you from the Imperial City's prison," the disembodied voice said, giving Adanji a clear picture of the White Gold Tower, the seat of the Empire. "First by carriage and now by boat." She saw a ship crashing in violent waves, teetering precariously near high jagged rocks as waves tossed it about like some plaything, "To the East, to Morrowind." Somehow, Adanji did not need to see the ashy land again to know that that was the place the voice spoke of, "Fear not, for I am watchful. You have been chosen."_

_ Strange texts floated before Adanji's eyes in an ancient language she could not decipher. A thousand voices whispered in the native Dunmer tongue, chanting endlessly. She caught snippets of words or entire phrases in Cyrodilic, though she did not understand their meaning. There was something about a Dreamer– sleeping, but not for long, and it filled her with a sense of foreboding. Somewhere, quiet as a breath or a thought, perhaps within Adanji's own head, the words floated: _Many fall, but one remains...

_ Amongst the whispers she heard a more familiar voice. A flash of lightning showed her the eyeless face of Jiub, and she recoiled. "Wake up," The eyeless dunmer said in his deep, raspy voice._

_ Adanji did not understand. _

_ "We are here." Jiub's face began to contort into that of a monster, his black eye sockets growing menacingly wide. He took a step toward her, his voice becoming concerned, which only served to unnerve her. "Why are you shaking?" Lightning flashed again, bright enough to blind the Khajiit and she swam for a moment in darkness. "Are you ok? Wake up!"_

Adanji's eyes snapped wide open and she flinched- both at the assailing brightness from the sun peeking through the deck gaps directly into her eyes, and at the sight of the man whom she had only just seen as a disfigured monster. That had only been a stupid dream, she firmly reminded herself, shakily taking Jiub's outstretched hand.

"Stand up," He said gently as he helped her to her feet, "There you go." He caught Adanji by the shoulders, steadying her as her legs threatened to give way. It was as if her body had suddenly realized the amount of pain she was in from smashing into the bulkhead, probably more than once. "You were dreaming." He said helpfully.

"Thanks," she mumbled, placing a palm against her head as if the pressure would chase away her impending headache.

"What's your name?"

She had to think about it- she had almost blurted out something completely wrong; a name that started with an "I". That couldn't be a good sign. "Nnnn..." She shook her head firmly. "Adanji."

"Well, not even last night's storm could wake you." He looked anxious. His overall helpful nature seemed odd for a supposed killer, Adanji thought. "I heard them say we've reached Morrowind. I'm sure they'll let us go."

"What?!" Adanji blurted, perhaps too loudly as it upset her headache. Did he say Morrowind? Wasn't that what the dream-lady had just told her? She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. Likely she had simply overheard something about Morrowind in her sleep and it had wormed its way into the puzzling dream –which had presumably been brought on by brain damage. She had hit her head pretty hard.

"Quiet," Jiub said. Had she been mumbling? "Here comes the guard."

Adanji followed Jiub's gaze and saw, just as the dunmer had said, a guard making his way to their cell, keys jangling in hand. He cautioned the two to stand back as he swung open their door, cuffed Adanji, and led her out of her cell, leaving Jiub behind. She heard a faint "Good luck," from the dark elf before his words were drowned out by the other prisoners' customary hollering and bar-shaking racket they made whenever a prisoner was leaving as she was led up to the hatch and out onto the deck.

It seemed blindingly bright outside after having been in the dim brig for two solid weeks, though the morning sun was mostly covered by light gray clouds, only occasionally peeking out through gaps as they passed by. A heavy mist blanketed the area, but beyond it Adanji could just make out thick, moss-covered trees and murky green water rising above their trunks. An eerie cry from some unknown beast resounded through the swamp, echoed moments later from miles away–likely a reply from a friend-beast. Before Adanji could even begin to puzzle out what the creatures might be, she was taken firmly by the arm and pushed down the ramp to the dock by an impatient guard. He marched her wordlessly to the small building up ahead. The first of many small buildings which formed what was probably a fishing village.

When Adanji and her pushy escort entered the building they seemed to have interrupted a conversation.

"... Prisoner arrived on Sixteen of Last Seed, Third Era, Four-Twenty-Seven– write that down, will you?" An old Breton was saying in a piercing voice to a young Imperial who was hunched over a number of documents. He appeared to be torn equally between reading the information on said papers and writing an official letter. The old man glanced up at the intruders mid-sentence, and his face became stern. "You're late!" He directed the comment at Adanji, "You were supposed to be here yesterday- Fifteen of Last Seed, not Sixteen!"

Adanji stared at him blankly. While the lines around his mouth indicated he was more accustomed to smirking, his lips were currently pursed. When he seemed uninterested in continuing his conversation without some admittance to her terrible crime of tardiness she said, with no small amount of sarcasm, "I'm . . . Sorry?" The Breton seemed pleased by her apology, despite the lack of sincerity.

"Yes-yes, well. We've been expecting you. The Emperor doesn't appreciate tardiness in any of his subjects. It's rude." This was followed by another long silence and Adanji was about to apologize again when the guard at her side cleared his throat impatiently. "Yes. Right. Well. You will have to be recorded before you are officially released–"

"You don't have my information already?" Adanji interrupted. She had always assumed the Imperials were more organized than this; they just loved their records. Then there was that word. Adanji had hardly noticed it at first, with everything on her mind. _Released?_ It gave her a small taste of hope and piled on a heaping dose of curiosity and suspicion. There had to be a catch. Maybe it was exile? But that made no sense, considering her crime. Exile was reserved for special cases, often in lieu of execution. And why Morrowind, of all places? It seemed like an awful lot of trouble to go through for a petty thief.

The Breton gawked for a moment, apparently taken aback, then guffawed. Adanji felt she was missing the joke. "Yes-yes-yes!" He said, "Of course we do. But you never know when incompetent guards will muck things up." This provoked the guard to clear his throat again, this time indignantly, and Adanji smirked a little. "No offense of course. Now." He turned his gaze on Adanji, "We'll start with the name- I'll assume you at least know that much. I won't assume you know how to spell it-"

"Adanji," the cat cut in, tempted to spell it out for the man before firmly telling herself not to let him rile her. Nobles and Imperial officials were never worth the trouble.

"That's it? No surname?"

"The Argonians who raised me had no use for surnames," Adanji said.

"Orphan, then?" He tutted. Adanji cocked her head, raising her jaw a bit defiantly, but didn't answer. She didn't have to. Of course she knew that technically, she counted as one, but she had never really felt abandoned. Swims and Hides had never let her- they had been all the family she had needed. Now, though… "I see. Street urchins always seem to find trouble." When Adanji still refused to respond, he continued. "Profession? I'm afraid 'beggar' doesn't count."

"I'm a thief." Adanji said flatly. She was careful to keep the note pride out of her voice. Certainly stealing was illegal and one should take no pride in being a criminal, but it took a certain level of skill to be an effective thief. Then again, she thought bitterly, if she had had any real skill, she and Swims would be in the Guild right now.

"Oh, well that makes everything much better! Such a respectable line of work! You deserve a medal." The Breton knew sarcasm, too, Adanji could see. "Yes. Thief." He snorted derisively, "Are you getting all of this, Attrebus?" He snapped at the Imperial, who nodded stiffly as he checked and re-checked the papers, scanning for any discrepancies between the documents that had been sent along with Adanji and the official release papers he was busily filling out. "Good-good. The letter that preceded you mentioned you were born under a certain sign. What would that be?"

Adanji had been born sometime in the month of Evening Star, as deduced by Hides-His-Heart shortly after taking her in. Based on her form– more feline than some of the other Khajiit she had seen in the Imperial City, with her large, furry feet ('beast legs' as some called them) and retractable claws, a new Masser and a waning Secunda had smiled down on her birth. That was eighteen years ago, though she often felt much older. She gave him the relevant information, though she failed to see how her birth sign was important, or any of his business.

"A thief born under the sign of The Thief? Will wonders never cease?"

_Will your terrible attempts at humor?_ Adanji wondered, quickly tiring of the man. Seeming to notice her ire (possibly because of her curled lip and flattened ears), the Breton rattled off a number of other questions, which became more inane by the minute. Adanji was convinced most of them had nothing to do with her release papers and were just an attempt to waste her time because he_ could_.

"Fishy stick?" the Breton finally asked after about fifty questions.

"What?"

"Good," he said, ignoring Adanji's bemused expression as he took the documents from Attrebus, who had stopped writing some time ago, "Before I stamp these papers, make sure this information is correct. Ah, you _can_ read, can't you?"

Adanji snatched the documents from the old man and looked them over- few of the questions he'd asked were in the documents, just as Adanji had suspected. They held only basic, relevant information such as her age, gender, appearance, current occupation and notes on her criminal record, which was fairly substantial, but not particularly noteworthy. She shoved them back at the man irritably, muttering "They're correct."

He smiled to himself as he stamped the papers, "Show your papers to the Captain when you exit to get your release fee." He almost sounded upset that his game was over when he folded the papers up and handed them back to Adanji. She tried sliding them into her pocket, but the shackles got in the way. She sighed. She had almost forgotten about them.

"Here, let me get those for you." The guard who had brought her in and had, until then, been silent took her by the wrist and removed her shackles. Though they hadn't been on long enough to chafe, Adanji instinctively rubbed her wrists. "Continue through to the next building, the Captain's waiting for you there."

In the next room, which was conveniently unguarded, Adanji was distracted by the most marvelous aroma; food. It was just bread and cheese, piled up on the table. It was for the guards, no doubt, but Adanji could no longer ignore the rumbling in her stomach. Glancing around to make sure she was really alone, she snatched up a slice of bread and gulped it down. She was far from sated, but at least the edge had been taken off.

Now she noticed an assortment of miscellaneous items which would be worth a small fortune; books, candlesticks, a dagger, intricately designed dishes and real silverware. There was even a set of lockpicks setting atop a note. She pictured herself trying to casually stroll by the guards, her clothing bulging with plates, forks, and knives, that bottle of fine liquor stuffed into her pocket, ambling towards the nearest merchant. The image was so absurd she would have laughed, were she in a better mood. She ignored her desire to pocket everything of value and instead slid a single lockpick into the folds of her trousers. That should be inconspicuous enough, she reasoned, and could prove useful.

As the guard had mentioned, the Captain was in another building, attached to the Census and Excise Office by an unpretentious, walled-in courtyard and to the right when Adanji stepped outside. She was about to enter the building when, to her left, a glimmer caught her eye. At the bottom of a rain-filled barrel beside the door was a ring, glinting in the light. Curious, she reached into the barrel and pulled it out- it was warm to the touch, despite having been in frigid water, and seemed to vibrate and glow when she slid it on. _It must be enchanted,_ she thought before taking it off. She slipped it into her pocket, not wishing the Captain to see it and confiscate it- if it was enchanted it was probably valuable. Nine only knew she could use the money.

Before entering the smaller building, she took a moment to wash up her arms and her face in the barrel, figuring it would look a bit suspicious to have one arm drenched in water. It did nothing for her ragged clothing and little for the smell, but it would have to do until she could get a proper bath. The Captain, a pale man in highly-polished armor, was waiting at a desk and glanced up as she entered. His impossibly smooth, aristocratic face twisted into a look of disgust and he pinched his nose. Adanji ignored his reaction and held out the documents she had been given, "I think I was supposed to show these to you."

"Let me see," He said, taking the documents and glancing over them, occasionally nodding to himself. "Adanji, huh? Word of your arrival only reached me yesterday. I'm Sellus Gravius, here to welcome you to Morrowind."

"About that," She interrupted before the Imperial could say anything else, "Why am I here? Nobody's told me anything useful so far and I'm pretty sure there must have been a mix up somewhere."

"I don't know why you're here," Sellus said before she could finish, "Or why you were released from prison, but your authorization comes directly from Emperor Uriel Septim VII himself, and I don't need to know any more than that." He busied himself with stacking Adanji's identification papers with various other documents and slipping them into a leather satchel on his desk. His tone was clipped and the words sounded rehearsed, as though he had anticipated this line of questioning and prepared appropriate responses so he could get her out of his well-oiled hair as quickly as possible.

"Uriel Septim?" Adanji said skeptically, "The Emperor?" Surely this was a joke.

"Uriel Septim _VII,_" Sellus corrected, before adding "The Emperor. According to my instructions, he _personally_ ordered your release from prison and subsequent transport here. It's all very mysterious, and _none of my business_." He said pointedly. Adanji felt that while it was none of the Captain's business, it most certainly was Adanji's business if what the Emperor had planned involved her in any way- and clearly it did, which she thought made no sense. No. There must have been some misunderstanding, however well-planned Sellus' responses might be.

"When you leave this office you're a free woman," The Captain said as Adanji mulled over this new information, "But before you go I have instructions on your duties; instructions from the Emperor. It would be wise to pay attention."

_Duties? What duties? _Adanji only nodded slowly. She was sure she wanted no part of this, freedom or no, but she was also certain that she wanted answers, and cooperating– if only for now– was likely the only way to get them.

"This package," He indicated the contents of the satchel, "Came with the news of your arrival. You are to take it to Caius Cosades, said to be located in the town of Balmora. Ask for him at the South Wall Cornerclub; they should be able to tell you more. Find him, and serve him as you would the Emperor himself." Adanji almost scoffed at this notion, but thought it wise not to- even so, the Captain raised a disapproving brow at her, as if he had sensed her stifled reaction. He then produced a letter which had been near the stack of papers before he'd shoved them into the satchel. It was in a crisp envelope sealed with the signet of the Emperor. He held it out to her after a slight moment of hesitation, as if he himself were questioning the Emperor's judgment, "I also have this letter for you, and a disbursal to your name."

He produced, from his pocket, a meager sack of coins which felt heavy to Adanji as she took it with far more interest than she did the letter. She bounced it in her hand, feeling a faint glimmer of delight at the sound of coin clinking against coin. This was probably not much to a noble or even a commoner, but Adanji was certain she had never carried this much gold in her life. Her glee at the minor revelation was diminished when she thought of Swims. "How do I reach Balmora?" She asked in a failed attempt to distract herself as she pocketed the gold.

"It's north of Seyda Neen." Before Adanji could ask, he added, "That's where we are. You can get there on foot if you take the road out of town and follow the signs, or, if you'd rather not get torn apart by the local vermin, you can take a silt strider." At the blank stare Adanji gave him, he explained, "It's a giant bug the locals use for transportation. Perfectly safe. There's one just outside town. It'll be on your right as you leave- you can't miss it."

The Khajiit gaped at Sellus, brow creasing, then at the door, then at the satchel he'd given her and the letter still clutched tightly in her hand. She had many questions; She wasn't quite sure what to do, and was certain she knew little– if anything– about Morrowind. Everything she did know she'd been taught by Hides and Swims, or had learned through overhearing rumors and snippets of conversation. The Imperial City, as Cyrodiil's capital and seat of the Empire, had its fair share of visitors from other lands, so Adanji's knowledge pool was not insignificant, but there was much she did not know. There was much myth to sift from truth, and the simple fact that Morrowind itself was generally a place of mystery. The local Dunmer were as xenophobic as a people could come, and culturally closed off from the rest of Tamriel.

"You'll be fine," Sellus said, sensing Adanji's distress, though he didn't sound particularly sincere. "Just read the letter and do whatever it says." He reluctantly placed a hand on her shoulder and nudged her outside, flicked his hand disgustedly as if he had just handled a piece of dung, then shut the door behind her with a resounding _click_.

The cat blinked slowly, a sort of stunned look plastered on her face. It was at this point that, without all the distractions and peculiar goings-on, she remembered how much her body ached from having been tossed about on the ship and unsteadily plopped down on a bench that sat just outside the office door. She took a moment to digest everything she'd just been told, gazing ahead at the modest village in the process.

Seyda Neen, as it was called, possessed a few buildings of Imperial architecture- complete with stone foundations, sturdy wooden frames and some sort of yellowish plaster making up the outer walls. Several dingy, one-room shacks of rotten wood and thatched roofs were scattered about on the outskirts, near the sea. The shacks closest to the shore had barnacles clustered on them up to half a meter from the ground, indicating the occasional flood during high tides.

The village possessed a single store, left of the muddy path leading from the Census office, and a towering stone lighthouse on the shore, back near the docks. That was all there was to the village, Adanji realised; three major buildings and peoples' rickety homes. Everything else was swamp, or marsh. Adanji couldn't quite remember the difference. There was a certain beauty to it, however- huge bald cypress trees shooting up from the murky green water, glowing blue draggle-tail sprouting from ponds between floating slime and lily pads. There was a near-constant chorus of various frogs, toads and insects. The swamp stretched for miles, from what Adanji could see, and the air was thick with a sweet, moist smell she could not place, drowning out even the scent of fish. Swims would have enjoyed it here, his people hailing from Black Marsh. He had always wanted to see his homeland.

She sighed and dug in her pockets, pulling out the ring and examining it for a moment before putting it back on, taking comfort in the warmth that briefly spread through her body before producing the letter she had been given. She ran a claw absently over the seal which bore a jagged dragon whose wings and tail formed the shape of a diamond- it was the same symbol that was pressed into one side of septims. She hesitated for a long moment then finally ripped into the envelope, flipping open the letter written in pompously loopy hand, and read:

_ 'You have been given these directions and a package of documents. Do not show them to anyone. Do not attempt to read the documents in the package. The package has been sealed, and your tampering will be discovered and punished._

_Follow these directions._

_Proceed to the town of Balmora in Vvardenfell District. Report to a man named Caius Cosades. He will be your superior and patron; you will follow his orders. His residence is not known, but ask at the cornerclub called "South Wall". People there will know where to find Caius Cosades. When you report to Caius Cosades, deliver the package of documents to him, and wait for further orders._

_Remember. You owe your life and freedom to the Emperor. Serve him well, and you will be rewarded. Betray him, and you will suffer the fate of all traitors._

_I have the honor to prepare this at the direction of his Most Sovereign Majesty the EmperorUriel Septim,_

_ Glabrio Bellienus_

_ Personal Secretary to the Emperor'_

That was it? No explanation as to _why_ she had been chosen, or how the Emperor had even known of her? No details on just what his esteemed Highness or his lackeys wanted her to do? She flipped the letter over, hoping there might be more on the back. Nothing. She held it up to the sky, dimly hoping the light might reveal some secret message written in magical ink. Though she hadn't really expected this to work, she was still disappointed when it didn't; all she had accomplished was to look like an idiot and draw some icy stares from the locals.

Flustered, she read and reread the letter until she had the thing memorized, her ire growing with each pass. She wasn't sure what she was expecting; she knew that no matter how many times she scanned the letter or how closely she scrutinized each word, nothing new would magically appear on the paper, and there was nothing more for her to do but sit and fume, strongly desiring to tear the letter to shreds and pretend she had never seen it. Meanwhile, the package for Caius seemed to call to her from its place in her satchel, and Adanji's burning curiosity seemed to burst into a raging inferno. If she could get into that package, she thought, she might have all the answers at her fingertips. But the letter had warned her not to, and she had no way of knowing that her tampering would not go unnoticed. Self-preservation instincts won out over curiosity and she returned to her stubborn fuming.

'_You owe your life and freedom to the Emperor,'_ she thought bitterly. _Right._ It wasn't as though she had made him free her. It was his damned decision to pull her out of prison- he could have let her sit and rot and she would have been happy to. It wasn't as though she had anything else to do. She thought again of Swims. He would have wanted her to do this, she thought. He would have relished the mystery and the possibility of glory and riches. If he were alive, she mused, she would have liked to embark on such a journey with him. _No,_ she corrected herself,_ I would have wished to stay in the Imperial City, where it is safe, and he would have dragged me along anyway._

'_Serve him well and you will be rewarded.' _She rolled her eyes. It wasn't as though they could give her what she desired, or punish her more than she already had been. A tiny, odd sort of half-smile pulled at the corner of her lips and she almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of that line of thought. _Enough self-pity, _Swims would have said, _You have your life, and your dreams- chase them and forget the rest_. She sobered at the thought and her ears lowered, almost flat against her head. Her dreams would mean a lot more with him here.

* * *

It was noon. Adanji had been sitting and moping for long enough. Pulling the coin purse from her pocket, she counted the money she had been given- eighty-seven septims. An odd number, but it was more than enough for some food which, despite her small snack in the Census and Excise office, she desperately needed, and transportation. She would also need clothing, she mused, looking down at the tattered, moldy rags she wore, which smelled of a sewer. Cleanliness was not a luxury commonly afforded to prisoners– about as rare as a decent meal– and she had been wearing the same rags since her imprisonment.

After a quick stop at Arrille's Tradehouse, wherein she had received a number of dirty looks, Adanji had bought and changed into dry, clean clothes– simple brown pants and a loose, off-white shirt– and had eaten her fill for the first time she could remember. The meal had consisted of a sweet, tender meat from something called a Nix-hound, an ash-yam, and Mazte- a cheap, alcoholic brew.

Now it was time to find Caius Cosades.

Crossing the rickety wooden bridge out of town and turning to her right, she immediately saw what Sellus had meant. The silt strider, which resembled an enormous, armored flea with legs like giant bamboo shafts, was unmissable. A bored-looking dunmer was sitting on a stool at the top of a ramp which led to the creatures back. As Adanji advanced, the silt strider let out a loud, long cry which echoed through the swamp and she realized it was the same creature which she had heard earlier that morning on the ship. She never would have imagined a noise like that coming from a bug, no matter how big it was.

"Where to?" The caravaner asked, fixing the cat with her sharp red gaze. She obviously wasn't the slightest bit awed by the alien creature next to her. Of course, to her, it was as common a sight as a dog was to Adanji.

"Balmora." Adanji said, pulling herself together.

"That'll be fifteen drakes."

Adanji stared.

"That's septims to you foreigners." She said.

"Ah." Adanji counted out her remaining coin and handed her the requested amount. The caravaner helped her into the compartment that had been hollowed out of the creature's shell, and the Khajiit got a nasty whiff of the stench that accompanied a creature's insides.

"You'll get used to it." The Dunmer said, noticing her wrinkled nose.

At least the compartment wasn't enclosed, Adanji thought, so a steady breeze could wash away the bulk of the stench. She sat on a crate which had been covered with pillows and a blanket to create a makeshift, stable seat. She was told she could store her belongings in it before they departed. She watched with immense interest as the caravaner manipulated the beast's exposed organs, pushing on tendons to make the beast turn and face the north, pulling others to make it walk forward. The ride was amazingly smooth. No jarring or bouncing that accompanied a carriage ride. It was also fast which, given the length of its legs, really shouldn't have been surprising; A single stride could carry it ten feet.

The caravaner– named Darvame Hleran– turned out to be quite personable, as Adanji discovered during the trip. She had ensured the Khajiit that the silt strider felt no pain from the manipulation of its organs, and she was delighted to answer any other questions Adanji had. She soon learned from the woman that they were in Vvardenfell- the letter had mentioned the same thing, briefly- which was a district of Morrowind, taking up about a third of the province. It was cut off from the mainland by wide rivers and open sea. The volcano at the center of the island was called Red Mountain and harbored deep secrets and horrible dangers that were kept in check by a magical barrier called the Ghostfence. Lately, Vvardenfell was experiencing a string of mysterious afflictions, with people going missing and others experiencing insomnia and going mad, eventually harming themselves or others around them. Darvame thought these unsettling events had something to do with Red Mountain and something called the Blight.

"That's Balmora, just up ahead." Darvame said before Adanji could ask anything else.

Adanji followed her gaze and saw, through the trees, a walled city that sat partially atop a hill that ascended sharply into the mountains. At the base of the hill the city was divided in half by a river, which was spanned by three stone bridges and the north and south walls. All the buildings in Balmora were made of packed mud and looked sturdy enough to withstand a blast from Red Mountain. Despite the practical, plain appearance of the buildings and the overall grayness, there was something about Balmora that was beautiful. There were the contours of the buildings against the stark blue sky and the way in which the buildings were arranged, tall and short, thin and wide, sloping rooftops contrasting level ones. There were trees, bright yellow banners and flickering, paper lanterns giving the otherwise gray city splashes of color.

Just outside the South Gate, there was a moderate, fenced in area containing unusual creatures. They had two fat legs, two tiny arms, large heads and long, thick tails. They looked reptilian with their tough, leathery skin. Despite their size and sharp, jagged teeth, they looked friendly, with strange, goofy smiles. Adanji watched one such creature being led to the pin, a saddle and giant pack strapped to its back. The creature bumped its owner's arm playfully, seeming to exert little to no effort in nearly toppling the man over, who laughed it off and fondly rubbed the creature behind its eye ridges.

"Those are guar," Darvame said with a wide grin, following Adanji's gaze, "Far more useful and loyal than those horses you Westers are so fond of, and much smarter than they look. That's High Town, where only the rich and prosperous live," she pointed to the portion of the city that sat atop the hill, "At its base is the Commercial District, where you'll find a few inns such as the Lucky Lockup, the guild halls, and your average shops. Across the Odai River to the east is Labor Town. Avoid it at all costs- you'll find nothing but thieves and thugs there, save maybe for the houses right along the river where the commoners live."

"Where can I find South Wall?" Adanji asked, deciding not to mention her own profession as a thief.

"That's deep in Labor Town. Whatever business you think you have there, forget it- like I said, it's dangerous territory."

"I'll keep that in mind. . ." Adanji said absently, reaching into her pocket and gripping her already crumpled letter. It wasn't as if she really wanted to go anyway, but it was as if there was a miniature Swims in her head telling her to follow the scent of adventure and, better yet, coin. Plus, the letter had warned her of the possible consequences if she did not do as it said.

Adanji said her goodbyes to the caravaner as she was dropped off at a dock which had been built into the southern wall for silt strider passengers, with stairs leading down into the city. As she made it down the stairs, she saw a male Dunmer loitering outside the building directly in front of her. He glowered as she approached and she got a bad feeling about him. Still, she needed better directions to South Wall than Darvame had given her. "Excuse me… "

"Whadda ya want, rug?" The Dunmer growled.

Adanji flexed her claws but, with considerable effort, ignored the racial slur, "Where can I find South Wall?"

"Yeh jus' got off it, s'wit."

Adanji glanced over her shoulder at the city wall, then back at the man who, if possible, narrowed his eyes further, "I meant the cornerclub."

"It's in Labor Town. Now, I've answered enough o' yer questions, outlander. If ya don' know where yer goin', yeh should leave." He placed a hand threateningly on the hilt of a gleaming, serrated dagger at his hip.

"Right. Thanks." Adanji said, trying to keep her voice even. She thought it wise to give this man his space- were he not armed she might not have been so tolerant. Maybe. She quickly left the area, determined to find South Wall and put distance between herself and the Dunmer. She could swear she heard him muttering something about 'stupid beasts' and 'should all be skinned alive.' That sort of talk ruffled her fur, but the last thing she needed was to get herself into trouble in a land with a distinct bias against 'outlanders.'

She crossed the river towards Labor Town, where the docks were busy with fishermen and commoners going about their day-to-day. The dock workers carried crates or hauled in netfulls of fish from the Odai. Children played near the water, skipping stones and giggling while their parents kept watch. Some local passersby scowled at the noise.

The buildings here were tightly packed and smaller than the ones to the west, making Adanji feel claustrophobic. As a piece of garbage flew by Adanji, carried on the wind, she was reminded of the Waterfront back in the Imperial City. That place had been a dump, too, only Labor Town had nicer, more solid-looking houses as opposed to the run-down shacks in which the beggars and retired old sailors of the Waterfront had occasionally taken up residence.

She followed the river south to the wall, then followed that east and began her search there. It didn't take long; she passed several buildings and slipped through a few dark alleys, always keeping as close to the southern wall as possible, and eventually stumbled upon the South Wall cornerclub, its battered sign swaying in the breeze. As she neared, she had the eerie feeling that she was being watched.

When Adanji entered the building, she heard muffled voices around the bend, which she followed down a hallway- at the end of which she saw another brown-furred, stripy Khajiit with a broad, flat face, pouring over documents which she hurriedly covered at Adanji's approach.

"What does it want?"

"I need information," Adanji started, ignoring the other's suspicious activity.

"Sss, Habasi is busy. Go ask downstairs, at the bar." She said, waving a hand dismissively.

Well, Adanji thought, at least it was more than the Dunmer had given her. She followed Habasi's advice and continued down the hall, around a bend and down a ramp into a dimly-lit basement. It smelled of alcohol and smoke, which she could clearly see billowing up from pipes smoked by various men sitting at the bar or at short, round tables playing cards or shell games. Off in a dark corner, she could see a Khajiit chortling at something the Bosmer sitting across from her had said, then placing her hand on his. In another corner, a withered Argonian was busily reading, apparently oblivious to the rest of the world. Two scantily-clad women– a curvy Nord and a lithe Bosmer– danced seductively in the back of the room on a cramped stage, where most of the men's eyes lingered.

Adanji slunk to the bar and sat down, clearing her throat to get the attention of the Breton behind it who resembled a well-dressed, balding weasel. He had, until then, ignored her. He quirked a brow at the newcomer, clearly suspicious of her intent.

"Haven't seen you around these parts," He said, "What can I get you?"

"I was told to f–" Adanji paused, then amended, "I am looking for a man named Caius Cosades."

The bartender's eyebrows shot straight up, almost disappearing into his hairline, and the rest of the den went quiet- relatively. Many eyes fell on Adanji and she shifted in her seat. The Breton hastily regained his composure. "And what do you want with that old sugar-tooth?"

But before Adanji could even begin to come up with some plausible explanation, she was interrupted by a flood of rumors.

"That old nutter's been here furever, since befer the Districts was reorganized. He'll go off sometimes, but always comes back." A bald, flat-faced Imperial said.

"He's been in some trouble, but its not long and he's off, scot-free- _knows people_ or something." A pinched-nosed Bosmer added from the corner.

"He's a veteran, I think– has friends over at Fort Moonmoth." Said another.

"That's gotta be useful. Turn a blind eye to his sugar problem, bribe the other guards to do the same." Noted the Bosmer.

"That's the thing, I don't think he _has_ a sugar problem. Eyes're too clear, an' that much stink on 'im? He shouldn't be able to walk." Said the bald Imperial.

"That old gray-hair _gobbles _the sugar like scuttle! It doesn't affect him? That's just the mark of a long-time user." A tawny-furred khajiit put in helpfully.

"Don't know where he gets the money for it." A female Nord with red hair said, "Can't be legal. Probably–"

"I don't know what your business is with him," The elderly, robed Argonian interrupted, looking up from his book, "But be careful. Caius Cosades may look like a pathetic old smoothskin, but don't judge by appearances." He cast a piercing gaze about the room, "Some people made that mistake not so long ago. They aren't with us anymore."

That put an abrupt end to all the gossip, and people went back to their drinking and gambling as if the man had never been mentioned. The bartender shook his head slowly, "There you have it. You really want to know where to find the old man, go ask Bacola Closcius, the owner. He'll know."

"Where is he?"

"Around," The Breton said flatly, "You want more than that, buy a drink."

* * *

With the help of the old Argonian, Adanji was able to locate Bacola, who was upstairs in his quarters. She knocked on the door and he answered gruffly, before noticing that he didn't recognize her. "Who are you?" Then, "Doesn't matter. What can I do for you?"

"I was told you know where I can find Caius Cosades."

"Ah." He peered around uncomfortably, scratching his scruffy chin as if deep in thought, "Well if they told you that, I suppose there's no harm in telling. That or they got impatient with you and were hoping I'd throw you out- any one of them could've told you of course, but..." He continued rambling for a while. "Why do you want him, anyway?"

"I have a delivery for him– a package."

He didn't look entirely convinced. In fact, he looked bored enough that he might just close the door in her face. "That all?"

Adanji scratched her head, wondering how much she should say, "I'm not sure I should tell you that, but... I got a letter telling me to find Caius Cosades and that I should ask for him at South Wall."

He nodded, "Well then, that must mean it's important. Or you're just here to off him- ha! Good luck with that. Go back downstairs and leave South Wall, take the stairs up immediately on your right, then turn left. His'll be the last house you see, all the way at the end."

"Thank you." Adanji said, at last meaning it. The sun was setting by the time she left. She followed Bacola's directions to a squat building that appeared even more run-down than the rest of Labor Town. She could smell the skooma thick on the air before she even reached his door. She knocked. There was a scuffling sound, wheezing, and the sound of many locks being undone before the door was thrown open, blasting the Khajiit with the full, overwhelming, sickly sweet stench of skooma, causing her eyes to water.

The man who stood before Adanji was old, but not so ancient as she had assumed. He was shirtless, with wild, roving eyes and wilder white hair that sprouted haphazardly from a receding hairline. He looked quite mad. Despite his age, his hunched figure and his trembling hand which clutched a rather sorry-looking dagger, the cat could see muscles rippling beneath that wrinkled skin. "W-what is it?" He asked in a feeble voice.

"Caius Cosades?" She asked at length. If this was some sort of joke... why was it important for her to seek out a crazy old skooma addict and give him a package? Then again, the Argonian had warned her not to judge on appearances. She hoped he was right.

"Th-that's me... Yer not here to hurt m-me, are yeh? I g-g-got nothins to rob."

"No. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm supposed to give you something." She reached into her satchel, and the man cast about frantically, then his eyes settled on her hand, as if fearing a knife. Before she could even pull the papers fully out, she was yanked suddenly into his house, the door slammed shut behind her and locked faster than she could blink.

"What is it, then?" He barked, no longer hunched or trembling. Standing at his full height he didn't even look that old anymore. Those cloudy, unfocused eyes cleared right up and bored sharply into hers. He wasn't frail; he was downright intimidating.

Adanji pulled out the papers, this time her hands were the ones that were trembling. Catching sight of the seal on the documents, Caius snatched them from the Khajiit- who didn't move a muscle beyond occasionally glancing longingly at the door as he studied them. First he read a letter that was on the top of the package, then glanced down at the rest which was clearly written in some sort of code. His eyes settled squarely on Adanji, cold and calculating, his mouth set in a thin line. She dared not look away.

Finally, he spoke.

"So. Adanji, is it?" He growled. She nodded slowly, "It says here the Emperor wants me to make you a Novice in the Blades." His mouth twisted into a smile; it was not a friendly or welcoming one, "That means you'll be following my orders. Are you ready to follow my orders, Khajiit?" His voice took on a rather dangerous sounding tone. She had a feeling that declining would be suicide.

"Yes?" Adanji squeaked.

He relaxed visibly, "Smart. Welcome to the Blades, Novice."

"I'm sorry," She said, "I don't really know anything about the Blades– just rumors."

"Good. That means we're doing our job right." He said, "Contrary to what you might have heard, we're no knights. We don't march around in gleaming armor, fighting great monsters of legend. We're spies, but some rumors– the more accurate ones– would tell you that much. We're the Emperor's hidden eyes and ears. We watch the Emperor's enemies, look for opportunities, write reports, take action- sometimes kill- when the Emperor commands."

She took a deep breath through her nose, trying not to vomit as her unease tangled knots in her stomach. "Ok… so why me? Why send a petty criminal to join the Blades?"

"Ha! I'd like to know the same thing, but that's privileged."

"But–" he cut her off with a hard stare. _But it concerns me. Personally. _Adanji felt herself growing more and more uncomfortable with her lot in all this. If the Blades were that desperate for recruits, why not ask a Captain of the guard, or a Legion officer, or anyone else who actually showed some promise or desire to protect the Empire? Sending a prisoner made no sense.

"As a Blade, you'll have access to a number of trainers and other services offered by our agents." He scrutinised her with narrowed eyes, "You look like you'll need them."

_Well it's not as though I signed up for this job_, Adanji thought. "What exactly do you expect me to do, here?"

"I was just getting there," Caius said impatiently, "Here, take this money- use it to buy yourself some armor or a weapon, or training." He handed her a coin purse even heavier than the one Sellus had given her that morning. By her estimates, it was at least twice the weight. "You'll also need a cover identity. You no doubt drew a lot of unwanted attention to yourself when you came looking for me, so before we can start with the real work we'll need time for that to blow over, and I'll thank you to be more subtle the next time you visit."

She frowned. Unfortunately, he was right; she could definitely have been more subtle when asking around. Swims had always been better at asking questions. Generally speaking, he was just better with people. "What sort of cover story do I need?" Adanji said as she slipped the coin purse into her satchel, "I suppose 'shirtless, skooma-addled madman' is already taken?" She knew she was taking a risk goading him, but if he needed her it wasn't as if he'd cut her down for the comment.

He actually almost appeared amused before adopting his original, stern mask, "Just look around Balmora. Familiarize yourself with the town, its customs. Learn about the various guilds and find one you like. Join it, do some jobs, gain experience, and once you've established yourself as a working citizen, come back and I'll have orders for you. Also- before you leave..." He leaned over his table and quickly scrawled something down on a piece of parchment and handed it to her. "Take this. Don't let anyone else see it- memorize it and destroy it."

"What is it?" Adanji said, skimming over the paper- it appeared to be a list of names and locations.

"Information on where to find allies. Each person on that list is a Blades agent and will be willing to help you- sometimes for a price. You'll find several here in Balmora." He took her suddenly, firmly by the wrist, startling her. "Show them respect, Novice, don't mess with their things- or mine- and don't take them for granted, and they will be more willing to help you. This is a hard land and if you want to survive, you'll need friends. Allies."

Adanji nodded slowly and he released her arm.

"If you need a bed for the night, you can use mine for free, or you can find an inn in the Commercial District."

Adanji nodded again, politely thanked him for the offer- which she honestly found a bit disturbing- and left. She had money and the Inn shouldn't be too expensive– certainly more comfortable and less disgusting than Caius' place. She stopped as a thought struck her.

She had money.

She had a job, though she tried not to think too hard about the implications, there.

She could afford a comfortable bed at night and enough warm, fresh food to fill her belly.

She looked back at Caius' house, then down at the satchel, heavy with more money than she'd ever had, and rubbed absently at the mysterious enchanted ring she wore on her finger. This wasn't her dream- she had never once wished to serve the Empire, which had never cared for her- but it was _something_. For the first time since Swims had died, a real smile graced her lips.

**((A/N: Here's chapter one! Please don't hesitate to tell me anything I could improve on. This chapter was beta read by the lovely Breatheslowlyyourealive. You should check out her Skyrim fiction, "Of Fear and Fates".))**


	3. Ch2: The Guild

**The Guild**

Adanji had been in Balmora for nearly a week and her gold was running low. She had yet to find a suitable guild and was people-watching for the most part, learning what she could as Caius had suggested. She would wander the town and listen to conversations when she could get away with it and occasionally ask questions when the locals would allow it. She quickly learned that most of the local Dunmer did not appreciate outlanders- especially the Camonna Tong, the local gang of thieves and thugs who had been around long before any Imperial guilds had set up in Morrowind. The group often kept to themselves in or around the Council Club, which happened to be the first building right across from the silt strider docks. While that would normally be helpful, as Adanji could easily avoid them during the day, it became a problem at night, where they became an obstacle. The Council Club was directly beside the Lucky Lockup, which had become Adanji's inn of choice. Since it was owned and run by 'outlanders,' it was far more welcoming to Adanji than any of the other inns.

She was on her way back to the Lucky Lockup after a long day of job hunting and it was getting dark out. She had, of course, gathered information on the local guilds, which were much more inclined to take on hirelings, but the pickings were slim. There was only the Camonna Tong, which didn't accept outlanders; the Fighter's Guild, and Adanji wasn't much for fighting monsters or ruffians; and the Mage's Guild, and the Khajiit- as with most of her people- was no mage. There was also House Hlaalu, but honestly Adanji did not care to indulge in politics. The Temple seemed to have the same view of Outlanders as the Camonna Tong and Adanji wasn't sure she'd agree with their doctrine anyway.

She had heard tale of the local Thieves Guild, but they appeared only to be rumors; nobody seemed to know where the Guild was located as it seemed to be at odds with the much more powerful Camonna Tong. She supposed hiding made sense. She could have asked her fellow Blades for help, but she wasn't entirely certain she even trusted them...

She was so deep in thought, wondering when she would have to take up residence with Caius for lack of drakes, that she did not notice the Camonna Tong thug until he stepped in her path, shoving her against the wall.

"Still here, outlander?" Adanji immediately recognized this man as the Dunmer who had rudely refused to give her directions to the South Wall several days before. "Thought I told yeh to leave."

Adanji cast around wildly, hoping a guard might stroll by, but alas they never seemed to be around when she actually needed them. "I'm surprised you recognized me," Adanji said slowly as she tried to think of a way out of this, "I assumed we outlanders all look the same to you."

"So yer a _funny_ outlander?" The thug snarled, reaching for his blade.

It was now or never, Adanji thought. Before he could fully pull the blade from its sheath, she swiped her claws across his face, kicking him hard in the gut as he recoiled. She didn't wait for him to recover- she had no desire to fight an armed man- and she darted away, her terror temporarily blinding her to the fact that the Lucky Lockup was nearby. She cursed herself when she realized she had passed it, certain that the thug would not be bold enough to chase her into an area so heavily populated with other outlanders.

As Adanji fled, she thought she saw the shadow of another person flitting into a dark alley, but charged on, hoping that wasn't one of the thug's allies as she heard him closing in on her, calling threats at her back. Adanji nearly cried out when someone grabbed her from behind, pulling her swiftly into the dark shadows of an alleyway and clapping a hand over her mouth as the Dunmer ran on by. They waited in silence as his footsteps and threats slowly faded away and only then did the stranger release her hold on Adanji's mouth.

Adanji whirled around, narrowing her eyes until she saw that she recognized the figure- Habasi, the Khajiit from South Wall.

"It is unwise, provoking the Camonna Tong."

"He attacked me first!" Adanji growled.

"And Khajiit left him with a scar he will never forget. She humiliated him." Habasi smirked at the thought, "The Camonna Tong thugs think themselves above outlanders- think Khajiit should be their slaves only." There was a distinct note of bitterness in her voice. "That one will make a dangerous enemy for you. Habasi would suggest Khajiit move out of the Lucky Lockup, so close to their den of thugs."

Adanji's expression was one of utter bewilderment, "Have you been following me?"

"No. This one did not find you so... interesting- she was merely in the area- but now she is amused." She grinned. "Come. I have a job for you."

Adanji was reluctant to follow the other Khajiit at first, but reasoned that she _did_ need work. Maybe Habasi could be convinced to get Adanji's things from the Lucky Lockup? Then she could move to the Dunmer-owned Eight Plates, where there were loads of folk from House Hlaalu and the prices were higher, but was further from the Council Club.

"Where are we going?" Adanji whispered when she realized Habasi was not leading her back toward South Wall- in fact; the Khajiit was leading her uphill- toward Hightown.

"You can repay this one with a favor. Habasi is meant to get a diamond, and Khajiit can get it for her. Do not fret, friend...?" She trailed off, searching for a name.

"Adanji." She felt that she had been saying her own name a lot lately. Probably because she had never introduced herself to so many people before- in the Imperial City, the beggars had mostly known her since she was a kitten, and no one else cared about her name because she was a criminal or a lowly street urchin_._

"Yes? Yes! Do not fret. I will not let you get caught."

Adanji felt a mix of anxiety and excitement. On the one hand, she felt she was about to get into a lot of trouble, on the other, this sounded suspiciously like a job the Thieves Guild might give, and she was a capable enough thief. They stopped short of a few high-end shops, keeping low in the brush to the side of the buildings.

"Nalcarya has diamonds," Habasi said, indicating the Alchemist's shop. "Habasi will keep watch. You can pick locks?"

Adanji nodded.

"Good. You have a pick?"

Adanji felt around in her pocket to confirm she did and nodded second time.

"Perfect! We will wait- quietly- until the guard leaves and the candles have been out for an hour- the elf should be asleep by then. Then Adanji will pick the lock and find the diamonds while this one waits and keeps watch."

Well, Adanji thought, Caius had told her to find work, and this definitely counted. Ok, Adanji was doubtful the old man would want her breaking into homes, and part of her felt that this was a terrible idea, but Habasi had just saved her from certain death. She was determined to make it up to her- if only to avoid a later debt. She watched as the guard- stationed at the shop during the day to prevent break-ins- left the shop, off duty for the day. An hour passed in silence and the shop was quiet.

At Habasi's urgings, Adanji crouched at the upper door of the alchemist's shop, leading to the owner's quarters, and fiddled with the lock until it gave. She swung the door open quietly and almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of the Altmer's snoring. She glanced back at Habasi, who gave her the all clear, and Adanji slipped into the shop, carefully closing the door behind her. Habasi had said the diamonds, valuable as they were, were unlikely to be in the shop proper. She assumed they were kept in a locked chest or jewelry box, away from the rest of the alchemist's ingredients.

After checking a few promising jewelry boxes to no avail, the Khajiit finally caught sight of a beautifully decorated box resting on a shelf, right above the slumbering Altmer's bed. Adanji would bet anything that the diamonds were in there. She felt that there was something awfully familiar about stealing from an Altmer's shop as she climbed silently onto the nightstand and placed a supporting foot carefully on the head board. There was _nothing_ familiar, however, about climbing over someone's bed while they were sleeping in an attempt to get at the treasures above. She held her breath, doing her best to remain still and quiet as she picked the simple lock on the box.

Popping the box open, Adanji was met with the sight of three glittering diamonds. Just when she scooped the gems up in her hand she froze- the sound of the Altmer stirring in her bed making her heart leap into her throat. She prayed to whatever gods may be listening that the woman would not wake when she heard her snort and mumble something in her sleep. After a few long moments of the Altmer mumbling something about a Dreamer, and then something about some unknown Great House, the woman finally settled back into deep sleep, her snoring perhaps louder than it had been before. _Dreamer? Why does that sound familiar?_ Adanji shook the feeling, though her fur still stood on end. She had a job to finish.

"Sleep tight," Adanji mouthed as she snuck swiftly back to the door. A quick glance outside told her there were no guards patrolling nearby.

Habasi had been waiting for her, wringing her hands anxiously, and greeted Adanji as she got outside. "Quickly!" She hissed, dragging Adanji by the elbow to their earlier hiding spot. "Did you get Habasi a diamond?"

Adanji nodded and held out her hand, palm up, revealing three sparkling white gems. Habasi's eyes widened with glee. "Three! Habasi knew she had a good feeling about you." She clapped Adanji on the back. "Come. I think you would do nicely in the Guild."

"Guild?"

Habasi only grinned, leading Adanji back through the shadows, all the way to South Wall.

"Phane Rielle!" Habasi shouted as they entered South Wall's den, "Bring Habasi a drink! And one for her friend, Adanji!"

Phane- the Breton barkeep- looked down his nose at Adanji as he brought the drinks. "This is the Khajiit who was asking about Caius," he sniffed, suspicion written all over his face, "What's she doing here?"

"Habasi thinks she would make a fine addition to the Guild."

Phane set the drinks down– perhaps a bit more firmly than he'd intended to, causing some of their contents to foam up and slosh over the rims– and looked sharply between the two Khajiit. "Are you sure about that? This one looks like trouble. _She was asking about Caius_," he repeated with more emphasis.

"Bah! It is no big thing. Phane worries too much!" Habasi grinned.

"And you don't worry en–"

"You do mean the Thieves Guild, right?" Adanji interrupted. She would be the first to admit she was being a bit slow on the uptake, but the last thing she needed was to make assumptions or get her hopes up– especially get her hopes up.

"Do we mean the thieves guild! Is she not a cute thing, Phane? Yes! Habasi means the Thieves Guild."

Phane still didn't look entirely convinced or amused.

"Here is the proof: this one asked for a diamond, and her friend brought three!" She handed Phane the diamonds– which he immediately began to inspect– without bothering to mention that Adanji had simply been fortunate that there was more than one, or that any diamonds had been in the shop in the first place.

"Mmmm," Phane said.

"She will have to know the rules, of course– ah! Arathor! There you are, right on time!"

Adanji spun around to see the pinch-nosed Bosmer bringing in her satchel from the Lucky Lockup, a mischievous grin on his face which, admittedly, was a common expression for his people.

"When did you–" Adanji snatched her satchel from him and immediately started rummaging through it, making sure her second set of clothing and her money was still all there.

"There_ is_ honor among thieves," Habasi said as Adanji counted her coin, "The first rule is that we avoid killing- unlike the Camonna Tong thugs. The second?" Adanji sighed a breath of relief when she saw her gold and belongings were all still there. "We do not steal from fellow Guild members, or bring them to harm in any way."

Adanji smiled sheepishly, "Right... How did he get my things so quickly?"

It was Habasi's turn to smile, "Nnn, Habasi sent Arathor to collect your things while you were in Nalcarya's shop."

"You weren't watching for guards?" Adanji squeaked.

"You got in unnoticed, Habasi thought she could leave her friend alone long enough to give an order or two."

She had a point, Adanji ealized. Half the work of a lookout was to make sure the guards or homeowners did not see anyone coming or going- once one was actually in the home or shop, for the most part, they were fine. So long as they didn't run into trouble on the way out.

"So...?"

"So what?"

"Does Adanji wish to join the Guild?" Habasi looked hopeful, Arathor looked indifferent, and Phane appeared to be sucking on a rotten lemon. Adanji didn't notice the other eyes on her.

She had always yearned to join the Thieves Guild, so why was she hesitating? They would offer her shelter and payment and, perhaps, decent company, though she doubted the latter. Caius had told her to find a cover- what better cover than a Guild she had always wished to join? At the very least, she might be protected from the Camonna Tong thugs, if the Thieves Guild was truly at odds with the group.

"Fine." Adanji said in a resigned tone. "I'll join the Thieves Guild." When she said the words, a tiny flame of excitement and joy was lit in her heart. Swims would have been proud. _But this is just the first step,_ he would say, _We still have a long way to go before we're anything like the Gray Fox._ She took the Sujamma Phane had given her and downed it in three gulps, only realizing after the fact that it tasted like an Orc's armpit in the middle of Sun's Height.

"Nnn, I think you should get the Toad another drink." Habasi shook her head slowly at Adanji's apparent apprehension but did not stop smiling, slapping Adanji playfully on the back as she passed her by, "Oh, and before she is too sloshed to walk, perhaps Phane should show her to the sleeping quarters?"

Adanji watched the other Khajiit slip up the stairs without another word, her vision blurred from drink or from tears. She wasn't sure which. She snatched up the second drink Phane shoved in front of her and knocked it back without another thought.

* * *

"Wake up!" Adanji groaned as the voice interrupted her sleep, a booming headache splitting her skull. She felt a hand shaking her shoulder.

"Wha'd'you want?" She mumbled. She had had an unusual dream, but she couldn't recall anything about it, except that it had felt real.

"Sugar-lips told me to get you up." Adanji recognized the face of Arathor staring back at her in the darkness.

"Sugar-lips?"

"Habasi- the Mastermind of our local guild. You know... you got diamonds with her last night?" He said, as if it were obvious. It wasn't her fault she had never heard Habasi's apparent nickname.

"Sss..." She rubbed her forehead. "What time is it?"

"Early." Arathor smirked, saying the word in a sing-song voice. "Pre-dawn, if you must know." The Bosmer was clearly a morning person.

Adanji had the sudden, strong desire to bang her head into the nearest wall, but with her hangover that would likely cause her head to explode, making the headache worse- or killing her. The tempting second option would be to strangle the elf, but that would probably get her expelled, or sent to prison again, or both. "Why so early?"

Arathor shrugged, "You're just a Toad in the guild. Which means you're either working or training. Or hopping around– but that would look silly. Maybe when you've done enough- get some jobs done, get promoted a few times- you'll have more time to sleep off your drink, but until then, it's just work."

"Ugh..." Adanji was certain she would never drink so much again. Finally, she roused herself enough to look around. "Where are we?" She yawned.

"Headquarters. Under South Wall." It appeared they were in a cave, with wooden supports and walls built up to create rooms. She was in the bottom bunk out of several such beds in the room- she didn't see anyone else occupying the beds. "Most of us are nocturnal by now- or close enough to it." He said, noticing her slight confusion. "You'll meet everyone soon enough."

Arathor helped Adanji to her feet– or dragged her to them, as it were. Likely to prevent her from rolling over and going back to sleep. Persistent bastard. "Come on, let's get you some breakfast and then we can begin your training."

"Is that free?" She meant the training services, but she supposed the breakfast counted as well.

Arathor laughed. "No. But that reminds me- Sugar-lips told me to give you this." He tossed her a coin purse, which she fumbled with, dropped, and had to scoop up off the floor, "Your share from the diamonds. Phane's already found a buyer for the extras."

_That was quick_, Adanji thought. Much to her pleasure, the bag had a decent weight.

Breakfast consisted of boiled Kwama eggs and porridge made from saltrice grain up at Phane's bar– it was bland, but filling. Adanji had found that the guild headquarters was accessible via a trapdoor located under a mat in the storage room behind the bar. It was kept locked much of the time, opened from either side with a specific key– she would have to earn her own copy. The thieves seemed quite paranoid that they may be found.

"Ah! This is the new Toad?" A heavily accented, somewhat husky voice broke the silence. Adanji glanced up. A tawny-furred khajiit was gazing back at her, amber eyes glinting. Adanji recognized her from when she'd asked about Caius– she had been sitting across from Arathor.

"Yeah. Hello."

"Chirranirr is very happy to meet you."

"Ah." They stared at one another for a moment. "I'm, er... happy to meet you too?" She didn't' mean to sound rude. She was just cranky and really regretting that last drink she'd had last night.

The Khajiit threw an arm around Adanji's shoulder. She shifted uncomfortably, stiffly leaning away, "Chirranirr will see you for training, yes?"

"Uh…?"

"Chirranirr's our lockpicking expert," Arathor explained, taking up a seat beside the Khajiit, who hastily dropped her arm from Adanji's shoulder. "She has _very_ nimble hands." He said with a playful grin.

"Oh, Arathor teases!" Chirranirr purred, "Anyway, Chirranirr looks forward to seeing the Toad's progress. Perhaps Adanji will give the Camonna Tong _jekosiit _a run for their money?" Oh, xhuth, Adanji hoped she wouldn't have to deal with them anytime soon. Before she could say anything, she was interrupted.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Arathor said, "We send all our Toads up against Camonna Tong, all we'll get back is frog legs!" He winced, "Er… Toad legs? Hmm.. something. That didn't come out the way I planned it."

Adanji buried her face in her palm.

Chirranirr forced one dry laugh, "Ha. That was terrible." Then she beamed, "It is ok, though. Arathor is still Chirranirr's favorite toy, yes?" Adanji thought she might gag if this continued too long, and pointedly ignored the rest of the conversation. She noticed with some amusement that Phane was nonchalantly stuffing what appeared to be some sort of wax into his ears, and didn't miss him sneaking a quick swig of what had to be a strong drink, given the way he shivered as it went down.

As Arathor had warned, Adanji's day was full of rigorous training. Two of the rooms in Headquarters were dedicated to training. One training room was long and full of tripwires with bells attached to them, with locked chests on the other side, each one more complex than the last. Training in this room consisted of getting across without setting off any bells and opening at least one chest with picks and returning before the sand in the hourglass ran out. There were five such hourglasses, each one with a different amount of sand in it. The chests, once picked, would lock themselves again, such was the nature of the mechanism the thieves used for training.

The other room, to Adanji's confusion, trained in various fighting styles and weapon techniques; marksman, hand-to-hand, and short blade. She asked Arathor about this, remembering Habasi mentioning a rule about not killing. He explained that, while the guild did indeed avoid murder, they expected its members to be capable of escaping a mark if things went sour, or defending the guildhall should the Camonna Tong find them. With lethal force, if necessary. This was as decent an explanation as any, Adanji thought, and she did not inquire about it further, though she found herself hoping there would never be any such confrontation between the rival guilds. At least not while she was there.

"Keep your tail up," Arathor snapped as Adanji set off a bell trap for what had to be the hundredth time, "And keep lower to the ground- when people are searching for you, they tend to look at eye-level."

Adanji hissed in frustration, "What's with all the bells, anyway? I don't recall any houses or stores having such traps when I robbed _them_."

"If you can navigate the bell traps successfully, you can get anywhere unheard. If you want to get out unseen, it's a matter of staying low and keeping to shadows." He did his best to keep his voice even as he explained it again. "You know, _pussyfoot_. You should be good at that."

"Oh, are you proud of that one?"

"A bit, yeah." The bosmer simpered.

Adanji was not amused. She found her legs shaking uncontrollably and she felt she might collapse at any moment. The strain of staying low, but not _too_ low, while also keeping her tail up and stepping high over the wires and softly enough to take her next step unheard all combined to levels of pain almost unbearable. All her life she'd had no idea how far off her form had been when sneaking about. Indeed, she hadn't even been aware there _was_ a proper form. "Can we take a break?"

"Later. It hasn't even been an hour."

Adanji groaned. That night her muscles were so stiff she could barely walk and she was happy to go to bed early.

* * *

Nearly a month had passed. The Guild had assigned Adanji a small chest at the foot of her bed, where she kept her personal belongings, extra clothing, and most of her earnings. She had completed a number of simple jobs, occasionally having to leave Balmora for other, nearby settlements, and some freelance theft, fencing the goods to Phane. She had earned her own key into guild headquarters. While she enjoyed the work, as it kept her busy, she found her thoughts drifting back to Cyrodiil. She missed having a partner in crime, her solitary heists often reminding her how lonely she felt.

Along with her odd jobs, her training was going well. She still set off bells in the training room, but not nearly so many as she had when she'd first started training, and it no longer hurt to sneak using the proper form. She found herself growing more agile. She was also now capable of opening the second chest fairly consistently without breaking picks.

"Why is Adanji here?" Habasi asked one evening.

Adanji looked up at her, confused, then down into her mug. She had been deep in thought when Habasi had approached, and wasn't expecting conversation. "What do you mean? I'm, thirsty, I guess..." She said evasively.

"Haha- no. This is not what Habasi means. Why is Adanji _here?_" She spread her arms wide, as if to indicate Morrowind. "She never talks about herself. Just does her jobs, trains, eats, and sleeps. It is almost like you don't really care about anything. So answer this one's question: Why are you here?"

She'd had a bad feeling that was where this particular line of questioning was going. "I can't say, really... I came here from Cyrodiil." She wondered how much she should tell- if anything, and how much should be the truth. "A friend of mine was killed." She immediately regretted saying that. Heat rose in her cheeks and she bit her tongue. She could have said anything– anything– but that. Why had she blurted it out? _Stupid, stupid..._

Habasi nodded, her expression turning to a sympathetic one. "What was this friend like?"

"Pushy." Adanji looked up at Habasi again, her ears lying back. It could have been an accusation of the Mastermind. Why was she asking these questions? Adanji didn't realize it had been so long since she'd made a friend that one always had to start with the questions. When Habasi didn't go away or show interest in dropping the subject, Adanji sighed and knocked back the remainder of her drink. Warm milk, unfortunately, didn't have the same soothing effect as alcohol. Which was a shame, because Adani desperately wanted something other than herself to blame for getting on this subject.

"He and his brother raised me. Both Argonians– Hides-His-Heart and Swims-In-Dark-Waters. Hides was the senior of the two, the one who found me, and gave me the first Khajiit name he could come up with. He taught me to read, because he thought it was an undervalued skill in the homeless, and a useful one for thieves. 'It's good to know current events,' he said, so he always had us reading the Black Horse Courier. It's also helpful to read wanted posters– make sure you aren't drawing too much attention. He also told us stories of the legendary Gray Fox, and taught us to dream." Her voice faltered, "He went out one day to bring us food. Because it was winter, food was scarce, and we were starving… He didn't come back."

Habasi nodded again, slowly. Her eyes had lit up at the mention of the Gray Fox, but she'd remained silent out of respect. She wordlessly signaled to Phane to bring them a drink and shoved one in front of Adanji. "And Swims-In-Dark-Waters?"

Adanji was silent for a long time. Hides was an old wound, by almost seven years, and easy enough to talk about. Swims was recent. Raw. She took the drink and knocked it back, despite her better judgment. Greef, this time. It wasn't as bad as Sujamma, but it was bitter. After some hesitation, she told Habasi all about her friend Swims, their quest to get in the Thieves Guild, and how her friend had been killed on the job that was to make their dreams come true. Habasi was silent through it all, as was Arathor, who had wandered over to listen. Adanji absently rocked the mug she was holding back and forth on the counter, watching the bubbles as they sluggishly circled the bottom of the glass. She realized this was the first chance she'd had to actually talk about any of this. While it stung to bring up a subject she'd come so close to burying, it also somehow felt good to just let it out. She wasn't even sure if her fellow guild mates cared, but that didn't seem to matter at that moment.

"How did you get here from Cyrodiil?" Arathor asked when Adanji had finished telling them of her family. Habasi also looked particularly interested in this information.

"Yes, how did Adanji go from being a prisoner in the Imperial City to a wanderer in Morrowind?"

This was where Adanji would have to lie. She doubted Caius would want her blabbing about the Emperor sending her here for any reason, even though she also doubted her peers would believe her. She barely believed any of it herself. "I escaped." She said, "There was a prison riot and while the Guards were confused I slipped out and I ran."

"Why come to Morrowind?" The elf said.

Adanji hesitated, "It seemed cut off enough from the Empire that I could hide here and be forgotten."

Habasi eyed her skeptically, but did not pry. Arathor, on the other hand, congratulated Adanji on her resourcefulness and asked for details. She felt a small twinge of guilt for lying to him, especially after he and Habasi had been kind enough to listen to her troubles, but spun a grand tale nonetheless, happy to be off the more personal subject. She told them of how she'd started the riot with a few scathing remarks to one of the prisoners and picked the key off one of the guards who had come to investigate, unlocking her own cell and several others to stir up the chaos, which would then cover her escape into the sewers. "I got lost in them for a day– they're like a maze. But I eventually got out, bypassing the city gates, and the guards never caught up to me."

"Guards always seem to be so incompetent!" Arathor howled, "At least the Imperial ones do. These local Hlaalu guards actually give us trouble. Shame they don't do the same for the Camonna Tong or I might actually respect them."

"This one thinks they are paid off, or forbidden from interfering. She thinks the Magistrate has a deal going with the Camonna Tong and turns a blind eye."

Arathor dismissed her, rolling his eyes, "You and your conspiracies. No disrespect, of course," he said as though he'd just remembered he was speaking to his boss, "But I'd think that the higher-ups would want those murderers taken care of."

"If that is the case," Habasi said, "Then why are they still here? We all know where they keep themselves. They are so confident they practically advertise their location! So why not send in the guards?" Adanji listened intently to the rest of the conversation- which went on for ages- occasionally chuckling at the jokes the two would make at each other's expense. It sounded as if this was a topic the two had discussed many times before. Their relationship almost reminded her of the one she'd had with Swims.

Three days later, Habasi sent Arathor to collect Adanji from her training sessions, which had been taken up by Chirranirr, who was much better at teaching Adanji lock picking techniques. At first she had been flustered by the training. Chirranirr had told her to build dexterity by knitting, and had her making scarves. It had been humiliating, what with Arathor's teasing about 'cats playing with yarn,' but had ultimately proven fruitful. Adanji was already noticing improved speed at the locked chests. Finally, Adanji was being considered for a promotion to Wet Ear, Habasi having been particularly demanding of her to avoid Phane's accusations of favoritism for fellow Khajiit.

"Friend Khajiit looks tired," Habasi said as Adanji approached.

"I'm fine," she yawned, "Just had a strange dream last night, that's all." More a nightmare, though she couldn't recall the details.

Habasi looked worried for a moment, but it was fleeting as she adopted a more relaxed, professional guise. "Onto business, then. Adanji will get Habasi a key," the Mastermind told her, "It is a very special key to Nerano Manor."

"I can't just pick the lock?"

Habasi shook her head, "The door to his upper quarters is enchanted and only the key will get Habasi in."

There was something Habasi wasn't telling her. "What do you need? Maybe I-"

"Always so inquisitive, Habasi's friend is." The Khajiit sounded both amused and impatient, "Nerano is said to have many treasures in his quarters- treasures Habasi wants."

Most of the time, the Mastermind would just send Adanji to gather specific, valuable items within a manor. Apparently she wished to do this particular job herself, and needed the key so she could get to Nerano's riches without facing the dangers of an enchanted lock. There were plenty of stories of careless thieves being severely injured or even killed attempting to force such locks. While Habasi could easily get the key herself, Adanji thought, it was likely the Mastermind didn't want to draw unnecessary attention to herself. While she was still curious about what it was Habasi wanted from the manor, she didn't press the matter further. "Where can I get the key?"

"Ondres Nerano has a key, as does his servant, Sovor Trandel. Nerano can be found in his shop during the day, in the lower level of his Manor. His servant will be more difficult- he is a known member of the Camonna Tong and keeps to the Council Club when he isn't..._ busy._"

Adanji bit her lip, understanding the implications. "And how do you expect me to get it from either of these men?"

"Talk it out of them, or pick either of their pockets." Habasi said as if it were that simple, "Here- I do not know about Trandel, but Nerano should take kindly to a gift; we all know how brandy can grease the wheels." She handed Adanji an exquisitely decorated bottle of the amber liquid.

"Is this coming out of my pay?"

"Of course!" Habasi said without missing a beat, "But the pay is high, and Adanji will get her promotion."

Adanji nodded, understanding.

"I suggest Adanji try Nerano first. You will not like it, but act as one of Trandel's slaves- this is the only way the fat bigot will accept a gift from a Khajiit. Butter him up- try to get him to drink the brandy in front of you and when he is drunk it should be easy to lift the key."

It disturbed Adanji that she would have to play the part of a slave– particularly that her people were so widely used for that purpose in Morrowind that it would be her only convincing cover– but she took the job nonetheless, hoping that stealing from such a corrupt individual would somehow make her feel better. Still, she hoped there may be another option. She would ask around for advice.

Chirranirr was sitting cross-legged on her bunk, a bottle of what looked suspiciously like skooma at her side. She was busily sharpening her claws with a knife as Adanji approached. "Adanji! What is the Toad doing here? Did boss Habasi not send Khajiit on a job?"

"She did, and I'm about to go do it, but I had a question first."

"A question for Chirraniir? She is honored, but she thinks Habasi should answer such questions."

"Ah, but no one else knows locks like you do, Chirranirr," Adanji said, allowing a slight purr in her voice.

"Oh? Clever Khajiit. Flattery will get her everywhere. So! What does Adanji wish to know?" She glanced down, then hissed, grabbing Adanji's hand and staring at her fingers. "Look at those claws! Chirranirr did not notice– they are a disgrace!"

"Oh… um, about the locks?" She said, trying to get Chirranirr back on subject. The cat only 'hmm'ed, taking her knife and busily filing away at Adanji's claws. "Yes… do you kn– ouch– know about traps?"

"Yes! Cut the tripwire and move out of the way. Sss! Hold still." Adanji winced, but followed the cat's advice, biting down on her lip. "Or Khajiit could step over. See a pressure plate? They are obvious. Avoid misplaced piles of le–"

"I meant trapped locks. You know, magic ones?"

"Ah, yes. Very dangerous… There! Sharp as daggers. Give Chirranirr your other hand."

Adanji reluctantly did so, then admired Chirranirr's handiwork. Her claws were cleaner and, as the Khajiit had said, quite sharp. "Is there a way to bypass them?"

"Nnn… Khajiit could use probes. Special lockpicks. Enchanted. Can be hard to come by…" She paused, deep in thought for a moment, "This one has some for sale, but does not recommend it. Not without proper training. Fail in disarming the trap and Khajiit could wind up dead– BOOM!" She said, throwing her arms wide in a dramatic display, "Exploded into many tiny, bloody chunks of cat-meat. Very nasty. Would require much scrubbing and many days to clean up, yes?" She returned to her claw-sharpening.

"Oh." That didn't sound particularly pleasant.

"Or Khajiit could simply use the key. Bypass trap and bloody death completely. No pink mist for homeowner to clean up. No dead Toad." She let go of Adanji's hand, "There! Now you have proper Khajiit claws."

"Thanks..." She had what she needed. She was hoping to simply disarm the trap so Habasi could get into Nerano Manor safely without the key, and so Adanji wouldn't have to demean herself, but it didn't look like that was much of an option. She would have to play the role of a slave, much to her displeasure, but at least she could avoid a bloody end.

Adanji stopped in her tracks when screams suddenly erupted near the Odai River and, as curious beings do, she ran headlong toward the sound- hoping all the while that some murderer was not on the loose and she wasn't about to hurdle into a knife. Up ahead, being pulled from the river was the unmoving form of a Dunmer. He was working class, based on the cheap, ragged clothing, callused hands, and filthy hair. He wasn't bloated, and hadn't lost any of his color, suggesting he may still be alive. She didn't know the man, but Adanji found herself holding her breath.

"Another one?" She heard a guard mutter under his breath as he reached the scene. "It's been so long since the last attack, I thought..."

A Dunmeri woman had taken the Dunmer's body and was desperately pumping his chest, leaning in and trying to breathe life back into his lungs. She cast around desperately at the bystanders, but all seemed too shocked to move. She threw herself back into her work for a few eerily quiet moments then, defeated, gazed up at the nearest guard, "He's dead!" She cried hysterically, tears rolling down her dark cheeks. Adanji felt a chill creep up her spine as she let the air out of her lungs, hissing through her teeth.

"He was just fine, and awake- exhausted, but awake!" The woman mumbled, her voice rising in a panic. "He told me he hadn't been getting sleep- had been having nightmares– that he was worried he'd wind up like the others and I told him he'd be alright, then, all of a sudden he just– passed out– went mad– as if in a waking nightmare." Adanji had no idea what the woman was on about, but it seemed to have everyone watching on edge. A hush had fallen over the crowd and faces paled. Some knuckles went white from how tightly hands were clenched, others trembled. "He started screaming something about a- a Sixth House and a Dreamer, then he attacked me and– and fell into the river– I- I don't think he was conscious, then, and... He drowned before we could get to him..."

At the mention of uncanny dreams and the Sixth House, an acolyte of the Tribunal Temple glared at the woman. The guards- and several bystanders- exchanged uncomfortable glances. Something similar had happened before. As the guards urged the bystanders away and took down the witness's report, Adanji couldn't help but think of the nightmare she'd had the previous night. She now recalled something about a Dreamer, and a dark figure in a golden mask. A shiver ran down her spine. Would she suffer the same fate?

She firmly reminded herself that she had a job to do, and that she should worry about such things later, but still the event had her shaken and it would be difficult to focus on the task at hand.

"I'm not taking your skooma, so get out." Nerano said as Adanji entered his shop.

"Skooma, sir?" Adanji said, trying to ignore the stereotype. She had hidden her satchel and coins under a bush in the garden outside, and was hunched over to complete the guise of a slave– it helped that she was already scrawny. She quickly thought of a random Khajiiti name and did her best imitation of local Khajiiti dialect, though it took some concentration to speak in the third person, "Najjan has no skoomas. No moon sugars neither."

He eyed her closely, then crossed his arms over his plump chest, "What do you want then, cat?"

"Najjan's master, Trandel, sends a gift for good Nerano." She produced the brandy.

"Sovor?" He narrowed his eyes, "Did he send you to poison me,_ slave_?"

Apparently Habasi hadn't known of the obvious bad blood between Nerano and his servant. Such information would have been useful. "No, sir. Najjan carries but a peace offering."

His suspicion only seemed to grow. "Then you won't mind tasting that for me, now will you?"

Adanji realized this could either be a good thing, or a bad thing. If she drank and he saw that the brandy was not poison, he might also be inclined to let his guard down and take a drink. If she was lucky, she could get him tipsy enough to start talking about the key, or better, enough to pass out so she could search for it at her leisure. On the other hand, he might not be satisfied with one sip. She might be the one to get drunk and she'd be completely at his mercy. The thought of all the nasty things he could do to her, or have her do, if she got too inebriated made her ill.

Trembling, she uncorked the bottle and poured some brandy into a glass Nerano provided. He watched her closely as she took a deep swig of the drink, shivering as it hit her stomach- the stuff was strong. Moments passed and, beyond the slight buzz she was getting, Adanji was unharmed. Nerano snatched up the drink, still not convinced, and sniffed it with his over-long nose.

"Ahhh," he said at length, "This is Colovian Brandy. Expensive stuff. My, my, my, Sovor, what _are _you planning?" Adanji was beginning to suspect that no one trusted Camonna Tong thugs– not even their employers, which was turning out to be a rather unfortunate thing for her. She glanced about as discreetly as she could while the man rambled about various plots he seemed to assume Sovor had against his life, and finally she caught sight of a glimmer of the key peeking out from over the popped collar of his exquisite, ruby-red shirt, hanging on a string about his four-chinned neck. _Xhuth._

He looked at her sharply, suddenly. "I see you're still alive, slave." He tossed her the brandy and she caught it, fumbling so it would not spill. "Pour me a drink, then."

She bit back a scathing _Pour it yourself_, and took his clean glass, pouring him the brandy. She handed it to him, "Here, good sir." _I hope you choke on it. _

"Hmmm..." He drank deeply. "Where did Sovor get you, slave? You've an odd manner of speaking."

"C-Cyrodiil, good sir." Adanji said, realizing her accent had probably given her away, or maybe it was something else? Was she over-doing her part? Had she misspoken?

"Huh. That explains the backward, Western, sorry excuse for manners. I'm surprised Sovor hasn't beaten sense into yet." He shoved the glass toward her, "Pour me another!"

Adanji did as he said, "Najjan did not mean to offend you, sir. She is new."

"Quiet- and avert your gaze when addressing your superiors." Another gulp. "We'll teach you manners, yet." He grinned nastily.

_Xhuth!_ That didn't sound like a threat. It sounded like a promise. Adanji had a feeling she would need to hurry this up- distract him, snatch the key, and run. Whatever Habasi needed this key for, Adanji hoped it was more important than some high quality trinkets. Really, there were plenty of trinkets to be found in Hightown. "Yes, sir." She said, the words leaving a bitter taste in her mouth as she stared down at her feet.

"I don't understand the obsession with keeping your kind as slaves." He snatched the brandy from Adanji's hands and poured himself some more, growing irritable– and drunk. "Can't be trusted to do anything right. Stupid. Incompetent. Thieving, conniving. Only the Argonians make worse slaves- too combative and barbaric for their own good. Make better _boots_, if you ask me."

It was all Adanji could do not to lunge at the bigoted fool. She kept staring at her feet, urging herself to keep her face as passive as possible, her ears erect. Only her constantly twitching tail and rigid fur along her spine hinted at her ire. _Maybe _you_ should be made into a pair of boots. Better yet, a couch. You have enough skin for it!_

"Won't be long before you're all driven out." He was now drinking straight from the bottle. He wiped his flushed face on the back of his sleeve and spat in Adanji's face. She grimaced, her claws popping. "Tell me, rug! Why did Sovor send you here? Get me drunk off my arse so you could kill me?"

That was her chance, she thought. "Yes." She lunged at him, taking some pleasure in the startled expression on his face. Her claws easily cut the string that kept the key about his fat neck and he didn't seem to notice as she slipped it into her pocket, too concerned with her apparent intent of murder.

"GUARDS!" He screamed. It was time to run. "GUARDS! THERE IS A MURDERER IN MY HOUSE! GUARDS!" Adanji bolted for the door, Nerano giving chase and screaming after her into the street. "GUARDS! CATCH THAT KHAJIITI SLAVE! SHE TRIED TO MURDER ME!"

_Well,_ she thought, _I could have thought this through a little better. _Perhaps attacking the noble with high standing in Balmora was not the best of ideas, no matter how much he deserved or even expected it. Maybe the Camonna Tong could somehow be implicated? She was, after all, supposed to be a slave of one of its members. At the very least there may be an investigation that would hinder them in some way. Maybe Habasi wouldn't be too mad at her? She hadn't killed anyone, though she was certain she was about to get caught, and she _did_ have the key. Shame the Mastermind wasn't here to pull her to safety now...

She slammed into a man in full Bonemold armor, falling back against the ground quite winded. "Over here!" She heard him say, "I caught the slave!" She felt him hauling her to her feet and slapping her in irons. She had to squeeze her eyes shut to chase the stars out of her vision before she could see the large, approaching figure.

"I want her dead, do you hear me?" Nerano huffed as he reached them, sweaty from the short jog. "DEAD!"

"Sorry, serjo, we can't just–"

"She tried to kill me!"

"Apologies, good sirs," Adanji stammered, knowing she was taking a risk in even speaking up, "N-Najjan was merely following her master's orders."

"Quiet," the guard holding her muttered at her ear.

"Yes!" Nerano blurted, "I want a full investigation done on one Sovor Trandel!"

"Your servant, serjo?" Another guard asked on his approach.

"We can't touch him- he's Camonna Tong, we're not equipped to take any action against them." He sounded notably bitter about this fact. "We will bring the Khajiit in for questioning, Nerano, and maybe a prolonged stay in prison, but that's all we can do. There's no death penalty for assault- only murder."

Nerano flew into a rant, cursing the Imperials and their 'backward' laws, and a relieved Adanji could still hear him screaming at the guard who remained to deal with him as she was led off to Fort Moonmoth- the only prison near Balmora.

The guards stationed at Fort Moonmoth were primarily Imperial, and all seemed fairly sympathetic to Adanji when they heard the Hlaalu guard's story about her being a slave– until later, that is, when they found out it was all a lie. As soon as information reached them that Adanji had been seen consorting with thieves, they lost any sympathy they'd had and conducted a full search. Lucky for Adanji, she'd feared this might happen and had swallowed the key on the way to the prison, while nobody was watching.

Now she sat in her cell, staring at the walls, as she had nothing else to do but wait for the key to come back into her possession so she could clean it off and hide it in a pocket. The guards would not need to search her again; She had nothing to steal from her cell beyond a waste bucket. Hours went by. Though she was far from happy about her incarceration, she got to sleep as long as she desired for the first time since she'd joined the guild, something of which she took full advantage.

The next morning she was awoken by the hushed whispers of two guards outside her cell.

"Did you hear? There was another one yesterday, over by the Odai. Some poor sod went mad an' tried to kill Dralosa Athren before fallin' into the river!"

"That's not what I heard. Way the Tribunal priests put it, Dralosa's got the soul sickness. She pushed 'im in and started rantin' 'bout cults and Dreamers 'n such. Heard she's bein' sent to the Ministry o' Truth fer… _healin'._"

"The Temple's just tryin' to keep things hush-hush. They know somethin's not right an' they don't like it. It's a threat to their power- Nine help 'em if citizens start questionin' the power of their Tribunal. Word is, they're losin' their power an' can't maintain the Ghostfence much longer. Not long before the Blight catches everyone an' we all go mad."

"Careful what you say- priests'll be after _you_, next."

"Oiy!" Another guard entered the Moonmoth prison, "You know where the Khajiit's being kept? Got her bail right here, and a letter for her."

That was curious, Adanji thought, sitting bolt upright. She'd expected to be here at least another month. Probably more, for assaulting a noble with the intent of stealing his things. Of course, since she had technically not harmed him and, according to the guards, had not managed to steal anything, the sentence would probably have been shorter than she'd assumed. She stood, leaning on her cell door and resting her hands on the bars.

"There she is," The guard opened the door for her, handing her a letter, "Got friends in high places, eh? Lucky. This is for you- I got my eyes on you, come here again and I'm not sure I'll accept such a quick bail."

"Right, right… " Adanji said absently, quickly unfolding the letter. There were only two words and a set of initials, scrawled in neat cursive.

_See me._

_-CC_

Adanji took a moment to realize who "CC" was, but then remembered Caius Cosades. She had just been fussing over the possible reasons for being sent here a few days ago, as she had often done since her arrival. The rest of the time had been spent trying to forget about the whole ordeal, forget about lost friends, and enjoy her new guild. She had not been particularly successful. She sighed heavily. The Empire had gotten her out of prison a second time– at least, Caius had. She would have to visit him after completing her business with Habasi. She at least owed him that much.

"Got caught?" Habasi said dryly when Adanji arrived later that day, key in hand. She'd coughed it up after leaving the prison and washed it at the Odai. At least, she thought, that was a bit less disgusting than the other way, though it wasn't particularly comfortable.

"Yes. Your idea didn't go quite as planned- Nerano didn't trust the gift, so I was forced to improvise." She watched Habasi closely, satisfied that her reaction to this news was a shocked one. "Nerano's a real bastard, you know that?" This time Habasi didn't look shocked, and only smiled lightly.

"Did he give you too much trouble?"

"No… he had me scared for a bit, and called the guards when I, ah, improvised…" She shrugged. "But I still have the key!" She handed it to the Mastermind.

"Ah! This key pleases Habasi," She smiled, holding out her hand, palm-up. Adanji saw a small, glittering pile of gold there. "Take this reward and, as promised, you are now a Wet Ear of the guild."

Adanji's heart leaped. "You're still promoting me?" She said, taking the gold. She hadn't even expected to get paid after messing up so spectacularly, let alone advance in the Guild.

"Adanji is not the first of us to get caught, and she was clever enough not to lose the key even when faced with unexpected turns of event. She even scared a fat noble witless– always a bonus." She examined the key closely, "Did you swallow this?"

"Yes- don't worry, I washed it off after..."

Habasi accepted that, but dropped the key in her desk drawer instantly, not-so-discretely wiping her hand on her trousers. "By the way, you dropped something. Arathor is getting tired of fetching your things for you- your satchel is on your bunk."

Adanji thanked the Mastermind and, when she was certain she had no more duties for the day, excused herself– she still had to speak with Caius.

Adanji remembered Caius' instructions from her last visit and was careful not to be seen as she approached his house. Caius was at the door before she could knock. "Come in." He growled.

As soon as she was inside, much like last time, the door was shut and latched.

"So. You joined the Thieves Guild." His tone was stern and disapproving, though his expression betrayed nothing.

"As a cover, yes." Adanji said.

"Uh-huh." Skeptical.

"Is that a problem?" She asked indignantly, "You're a skooma addict. Supposedly. _As a cover_."

"Yes, as a cover."

"How is this different?"

"I can control my cover identity. And I had assumed that, with the chance you were given, you might choose a more honorable path."

_Stupid, pig-headed, biased, holier-than-thou– _"Why would you assume that?!" Adanji scoffed, "And why do you care?"

"I _care_ because the Emperor, for some inexplicable reason, has placed his faith in you! He took note of you when no one else would, released you from prison, and gave you a position most people would kill for!" He growled. He spoke as passionately as Swims had whenever he talked about the Gray Fox. Adanji found herself deflating. "I'm not here to judge your life's decisions but I'd hoped you would be more grateful."

"I_ am_." She said, realizing deep down that, somewhere along the line, this had become true. "I have a Guild- a job- food, a roof over my head. What more could I want?" Well, there was more, but that was gone from her forever and there was no use reaching– begging– for it.

"Honor? But I don't suppose criminals have any use for that." He shook his head impatiently, "Just be careful. Attempted murder is not something we can ignore–"

"Nerano? I had no intention of killing the man! I played a role to obtain a key. He assumed I was there to kill him and I had to make it convincing so he wouldn't notice what I was really after."

"It was convincing, all right! You only get this one warning; next time you muck up, I'm not bailing you out again."

"Fine,_ understood_!" There was a long silence between the two. Caius had actually made Adanji feel somewhat ashamed. More than 'somewhat.' She wasn't sure why she even cared what he thought of her. Maybe it was because he was so damned sincere. To make matters worse, now she felt bad for thinking so poorly of the man. That wasn't to say she fully trusted him, or liked him, but she could respect him, which might be better. She wasn't sure, yet. "Thanks." Adanji said at length, unable to meet his eyes. Her voice sounded choked and stiff. "For bailing me out."

"Yeah, well." He cleared his throat and said gruffly, "I have a job for you. One that you couldn't do behind bars."

She calmed a little, forcing her fur to lie flat and her ears to stand upright. "What do you want me to do?"

He quirked a brow, "Generally we answer orders with 'Yes, sir.' I need you to go talk to Hasphat Antabolis at the Balmora Fighters Guild. Ask him what he knows about the Nerevarine secret cult and the Sixth House secret cult. You'll have to do him a favor first– probably an ugly favor– but do it. Then get the information from Antabolis and report back to me."

"Yes... Sir." Adanji tried it out- the words felt weird in her mouth, as they had when she was playing slave to Nerano, but she supposed this was a little less demeaning. Caius noted her attempt with a satisfied nod. "I've heard of the Sixth House. Nothing about a cult, but..." She hesitated, remembering the insanity of the previous day. "Some woman was rambling about it after her friend died- over by the Odai river? Does this have something to do with the cult?"

Caius nodded grimly. "A trusted informant says they're a secret cult associated with some strange events recently–such as the supposed murder. Or suicide..? More importantly, my informant thinks these recent disturbances are related in some way to the Nerevarine Prophecies, but nothing else is known beyond that."

"What's that?" She'd heard of the Sixth House, but nothing about a Nerevarine Prophecy. She wasn't even sure what a Nerevarine was.

"The Nerevarine Prophecies?" He shrugged, "Some Dunmer believe that an orphan and outcast will one day unite all the tribes of the Dunmer, drive out the 'invaders' of Morrowind, and reestablish the ancient laws and customs of the Dark Elven nations. They call this orphan and outcast the 'Nerevarine,' and say he will be a reincarnation of the long-dead Dunmer General and First Councilor, Lord Indoril Nerevar." This was all news to Adanji- she could feel her eyes glazing over. "The Prophecies are mostly wrapped up in Ashlander culture, passed down by their wise women in the form of poetic verses, but I don't know much more than that. That's why I'm sending you to find out."

Adanji had at least heard of Ashlanders before. She'd heard the locals complaining about the illiterate 'savages' refusing to conform to Tribunal teachings. It seemed the Dunmer hated their ancient culture as much as they hated outlanders coming in and trying to change their current one. Still, she had a lot to learn.

"You may be sent somewhere dangerous. I suggest you bring a weapon along with you, and some potions. You should also get some rest before heading out." He pondered for a moment, scratching his chin, "One more thing. Hasphat is a student of Morrowind history. Take the chance to get a little education. And I have a few history books in here. Help yourself to them."

Caius had a lot of books, all stacked up against the wall or on the table, leaving barely enough room to sit and eat, and some even scattered open on his bed. She supposed the disorder of it all added to his appearance of a mad skooma addict, but the mere fact that he had so many books– which were expensive things– might lead many to question that identity. She eyed the books hungrily, if a bit apprehensively. She had lost count of how many times she had longed for a room stacked with nothing but books since Hides had shown her she could escape into stories like _Mystery of Talara_. She remembered bitterly the time Phintias had caught her and Hides lurking in his shop, First Edition, after hours, and chased them out. They had snuck in there many times to read, but that had been the last. "Where would I even begin?"

He smiled briefly and, after a moment of searching, handed her a book from the stack on the table, "Jeanette Sitte's little book is a good place to start. Here, take it." Adanji read the title as she took the 'little' book from him: _A Short History of Morrowind. _"You might also look for _On Morrowind, the Imperial Province_, by Erramanwe of Sunhold." The conversation continued on the line of books and history for some time, and it was dark out by the time Adanji left, feeling a bit warmer towards the Imperial than she had initially believed she could. She decided to take Caius' advice and get some rest; she would go see Hasphat in the morning.

******((A/N: Here's chapter two! Sorry it took longer than I had thought. Please don't hesitate to tell me anything I could improve on. This chapter was beta read by the lovely Breatheslowlyyourealive. You should check out her Skyrim fiction, "Of Fear and Fates".))**


	4. Ch3: Raiders of the Lost Box

**Raiders of the Lost Box**

Adanji sat Akaviri-style in her bunk, _A Short History of Morrowind_ lying open in her lap. She'd been having trouble going to sleep, so she decided she'd read until sleep could take her. As most history books tend to be, _A Short History of Morrowind_ was dry and wordy, but there were a few parts she had found interesting.

(from the Introduction)

_'__...Led by the legendary prophet Veloth, the ancestors of the Dunmer, exiles from Altmer cultures in present-day Summerset Isle, came to the region of Morrowind. In earliest times the Dunmer were harassed or dominated by Nord sea raiders. When the scattered Dunmer tribes consolidated into the predecessors of the modern Great House clans, they threw out the Nord oppressors and successfully resisted further incursions._

_The ancient ancestor worship of the tribes was in time superseded by the monolithic Tribunal Temple theocracy, and the Dunmer grew into a great nation called Resdayn. Resdayn was the last of the provinces to submit to Tiber Septim; like Black Marsh, it was never successfully invaded, and was peacefully incorporated by treaty into the Empire as the Province of Morrowind..._

(on Vvardenfell District)

..._Local law became a mixture of House Law and Imperial Law in House Districts, jointly enforced by House guards and Legion guards, with Temple law and Imperial law enforced in the Temple district by Ordinators. The Temple was still recognized as the majority religion, but worship of the Nine Divines was protected by the legions and encouraged by Imperial cult missions..._

_...The Temple stubbornly fought all development in their district, and were largely successful…_

_...The Imperial administration faces many challenges in the Vvardenfell district, but the most serious are the Great House rivalries, animosity from the Ashlander nomads, internal conflicts within the Temple itself, and the Red Mountain blight. Struggles between Great House, Temple, and Imperial interests to control Vvardenfell's resource could at any time erupt into full-scale war. Ashlanders raid settlements, plunder caravans, and kill foreigners on their wild lands. The Temple has unsuccessfully attempted to silence criticism and calls for reform within its ranks._

_... Most serious are the plagues and diseased hosts produced by the blight storms sweeping out from Red Mountain. Vvardenfell and all Morrowind have long been menaced by the legendary evils of Dagoth Ur and his ash vampire kin dwelling beneath Red Mountain. For centuries the Temple has contained this threat within the Ghostfence. But recently the Temple's resources and will have faltered, and the threat from Red Mountain has grown in scale and intensity. If the Ghostfence should fail, and hosts of blighted monsters were to spill out across Vvardenfell's towns and villages, the Empire might have no choice but to evacuate Vvardenfell district and abandon it to disease and corruption...'_

Well, Adanji thought, maybe the Emperor sending her to Morrowind had been a cruel form of punishment after all. The book continued on for several chapters involving other districts of Morrowind and their settlements, and it wasn't long before Adanji drifted into sleep.

* * *

"Adanji. Wake up and come with me." Habasi was at Adanji's bunk, and her words were hushed, but enough to stir Adanji from her restless slumber.

Adanji got up slowly, blinking the sleep from her eyes. She was certain there was no way she'd gotten more than an hour's sleep. "What is it?" She whispered back, stretching and setting the book aside- she had unintentionally used it as a pillow and now one of the pages had some drool drying on it, smudging some of the ink.

"Damn you… ash yams!" The two glanced over to a bunk in the corner. It appeared Chirranirr was dreaming, her tail twitching madly. "Cheese… for… everyone!" She rolled over and began to snore loudly. Adanji and the Mastermind exchanged amused glances.

Habasi sobered and jerked her head toward the ladder up to South Wall, and Adanji followed her. In Phane's store room, the Mastermind led Adanji through a hidden door behind some shelves, into what appeared to be an office. She sat down at her desk and gazed up at Adanji for a long moment, then held out some papers. "Habasi was right. Nerano did have treasures in his room."

Adanji gave her a questioning glance before skimming through the letters- which seemed entirely ordinary.

"Information is treasure– sometimes the most precious kind." Habasi said in response to Adanji's puzzled expression. "It looks like House Hlaalu– or some of its members, like Nerano– have allied themselves with the Camonna Tong, and it looks like both of them are into some troubling things."

Adanji quirked a brow at her leader, "I don't see anything amiss." Maybe it was because she was too tired to think clearly, or maybe Habasi genuinely was seeing things that weren't there, as Arathor had suggested.

"It is in code- using special phrases that look ordinary to the untrained eye. But there is mention of a secret House. Some names are dropped. I think they're in cahoots with whatever has been responsible for the disappearances lately."

"Why tell me?" She did her best to keep the skepticism from her voice. She was honored that Habasi had chosen to share this with her, but she wasn't sure any of this knowledge was worth losing sleep over, given her recent insomnia.

Habasi shrugged, "You got Habasi the key. You asked her why it was so important? This is it."

Adanji nodded, though she still didn't understand how any of this was relevant. The letters looked ordinary and personal, and even if the Camonna Tong were involved in the strange goings-on, Adanji was certain it was none of her business. Best just stay out of it and keep their heads down. "Do you have another job for me, then?"

"No. Not yet. I will be sending spies to watch certain Camonna Tong officials. Get more information…" She drummed her claws on the desk absently, "Getting into Dren Plantation will be difficult," She muttered more to herself than to Adanji, "Habasi may have new jobs for you later. Until then, we have other guild halls throughout Vvardenfell- specifically in Ald'ruhn, at The Rat In The Pot, and Dirty Muriel's, over near Wolverine Hall in Sadrith Mora. If you find yourself in either of these locations before this one has another job for you, ask around- they may have work you can do."

"Ok." Adanji yawned. "An-anything else?" Habasi shook her head, and Adanji let her get back to her conspiracy theories.

"The chairs..." Chirranirr muttered as Adanji entered their room, "They are arranged so strangely… why do they not fall down?"

She smiled at the sleeping Khajiit, wondering what could possibly be in her head. As she slipped back into bed, determined to get a full night's sleep, a thought occurred to her. Habasi had mentioned a secret house. If this happened to be the Sixth House, Habasi could be right about the involvement with the disappearances. Caius had said the same thing hadn't he, something about disturbances? She still had no desire to get involved, of course, but in her quest tomorrow to gather information she may be forced to. Her sleep that night was uneasy.

* * *

"Hasphat?" Adanji approached the middle-aged Imperial in the basement of the Fighter's Guild where Caius had said he'd be. He was balding, and what remained of his brown hair was slicked back and pulled into the stumpiest pony tail Adanji had ever seen.

"That's me." He looked her up and down, "Who are you? If you want us to kill something, go talk to Eydis Fire-Eye upstairs."

Adanji had spoken to her, briefly. The Nord had a chip on her shoulder. She had first asked Adanji if she was lost, then called her a waif, unfit to join the Fighter's guild. Why she had assumed that was Adanji's goal was beyond her, but Eydis had seemed thrilled when she found out Adanji only wished to talk to one of her subordinates. "That's not why I'm here. Caius sent me. He wants–"

"Ah! You're the one he's sent for information? Well, I'm afraid you won't get it for free."

"Yeah, he said that would probably be the case." At least Caius had warned her, she thought.

"Then we understand each other? Good. There are Dwemer ruins nearby called Arkngthand. I need you to run over there and find me a little cube with a circular design and some symbols on one side. It's called a 'Dwemer puzzle box'. Bring the puzzle box to me, and I'll tell you what you want to know."

She was curious as to how exactly he knew the puzzle box was there, and why he didn't already have it. Perhaps he had been in the ruins before, but had not thought the item was worth taking, or was forced to leave sooner than expected? "Where is Ark.. Arkn..." Adanji fumbled with the word, then gave up, "Where's the ruin?"

"You know where Fort Moonmoth is, just southeast of Balmora?" Adanji nodded. "Arkngthand is just east of there. You can see the old metal towers peeking over the mountains overlooking the Fort. If you take the left fork on the way to the Fort, follow that across an ancient Dwemer bridge– you can't miss it, it's huge and made of metal. The entrance to the ruin will be on your right. Turn a crank on a nearby pipe to open the doors."

Adanji repeated the directions back to him, making sure she had it down in her head. "And what do you need with this puzzle box?"

"That's none of your concern. They hold information, that's all. But here's something you'll actually _need_ to know. The Dwemer ruins often have strange, deadly traps, and when they don't they're usually crawling with smugglers..."Adanji had heard something about smugglers from Arathor. He'd said that Dwemer artifacts were prized by historians and antiquarians, and were invaluable. Recently, however, the Emperor had declared all newly discovered Dwemer artifacts to be possessions of the crown and had forbidden their sale. Now smuggling the artifacts was considered treason, but smugglers would still risk execution for such a profitable crime.

This also meant that the smugglers didn't want to get caught, and would attack any potential witnesses on sight. Which begged another question...

"...Some are known to contain centurions– living constructs– in their lower levels, so be sure and prepare yourself for danger. Proper armor and weapons could go a long way–"

"I hope this information is worth it," Adanji interrupted, "I'm not too thrilled with the idea of getting my head chopped off over an artifact I don't even need or want."

"So don't get caught. You're a thief, aren't you?" He grinned at her expression. She wasn't even sure how he'd gotten that information. Perhaps word of her arrest had gotten out? Or maybe Caius had sent a bit of information ahead of her, so Hasphat would know what he was dealing with. If that was the case, she didn't appreciate it one bit. "Just think of this as a challenge."

"Right." She wasn't entirely convinced.

"If it makes you feel any better, if Caius wants this information, it's important."

She nodded slowly. She supposed this made her feel a little bit better. "What can you tell me about the ruins, themselves?"

"They're all that remains of the extinct Dwemer. The artifacts left behind are treasured by mages, who want to steal lost magic from them, and scholars who want to gain fame by being the first to discover what happened to the Dwarves. No one knows the answer to that question, and we probably never will. I'm somewhat of an expert on the Dwemer and _I_ don't know the answer to that. As I said, they'll be dangerous, though Arkngthand is relatively small, for a Dwemer ruin."

Small was excellent. Maybe if the ruins were small enough Adanji wouldn't have too much trouble finding the puzzle box. Honestly, though, she couldn't help but wonder why Caius would send her to gather this information. If indeed it was important, why would he send a recruit so wet behind the ears to obtain it? She wondered if it was important that _she_ know the information, if it had anything at all with her being sent here, but that was just stupid, and reeked of conspiracy. Maybe it was a test of her skills? If she survived she might be useful for other tasks and if she did not then clearly the Emperor had made a mistake in sending her here. She wondered what the old man was thinking, back in that White Gold tower, what he knew that she didn't.

That led to the question of why she was even going through with this. What would she gain from it? She had to wonder... Maybe if she just did as she was told she might eventually learn why she had been sent here in the first place. Maybe she could gain some insight into what he was planning? But how much would even that information matter to her, if she was dead?

_'__Information is treasure– sometimes the most precious kind...'_ Habasi's words echoed in her mind, and she realized she'd had a point. Besides, if she just ran away, there was a high chance the ever resourceful Blades would find her and ensure she was punished. That letter she had received upon her arrival to Morrowind had made that crystal clear.

Adanji had just left Nalcarya's shop, and hanging about her hip was a new bottle pouch containing three healing potions and one to cure diseases. She had learned from the locals that wandering outside of the larger settlements in Morrowind could be dangerous, and that one of those many dangers was disease. Blight was a constant fear, of course, carried on the air with the ash storms blowing in from Red Mountain, and often carried by the local wildlife. The Blight itself was a simple enough cure, but if untreated it could lead to corprus which, judging by the reactions of the locals just mentioning it, was a dreadful disease, and had no known cure.

Now she just needed a weapon and armor.

Meldor's Armory was right across from the Fighters' and Mages' Guild Halls, in the commercial district. The Bosmer's selection of armor was decent, ranging between light leather armors and heavy iron sets. He had plenty that were pre-made, lower quality armor sets that were made to fit a range of body types, which were cheaper. While Adanji had gained some weight since joining the Guild, none of the armors were quite snug enough for her except around the hips, all of them far too loose around her flat chest and narrow shoulders. Meldor had taken her measurements, commenting rudely on her being built like a young boy, and told her she would have to wait at least two weeks before the proper modifications could be made to the smallest set of netch leather armor he'd had in stock.

Even cheap armor was expensive, Adanji realized. She'd paid half up front and that alone was almost two hundred drakes. The dagger she now carried had been much more reasonable, at only 80 drakes. She was lucky the Thieves' Guild paid well. Despite her lack of armor, Adanji felt a strong desire to go to Arkingthand and get things over with. Caius didn't seem like a particularly patient man, however honorable, and she never knew how long the Blades might wait before deciding to kill her for 'abandoning' her duties. At the very least she could scout the place out. If it was full of smugglers, she could simply leave, explain the situation to Caius, and come back later, when she was ready.

_No use putting it off, _she thought. With her potions and weapon, at least she wasn't completely unprepared.

* * *

Fort Moonmoth was situated between a hill that sloped gently upward, and sharp, gray rock which towered high above it and dipped down into valleys beyond, carved out over time by the lava which sometimes flowed down from Red Mountain. Foyadas, the locals called these natural paths– "Fire Rivers," when translated to Cyrodilic. Though the paths were often treacherous, the crags on either side occupied by flocks of hostile cliffracers, it didn't stop the locals from using them as roads when the lava was cooled and hard.

A heavy mist hung on the air, obscuring the sharp rocky walls, yet she could still see an immense red, swirling shape looming ominously ahead of her. An ash storm, she realized as she drew nearer. She'd seen plenty of ash storms before, but only at a distance, ever billowing out from Red Mountain. She'd never been in one. She paused for a moment, considering her options. Ash Storms were notoriously dangerous. She could turn back now, but would she reach Balmora in time? She was so close to the ruins as it was. If she turned back and the storm caught up to her, she would be walking in it for a mile and may get turned around. She took a deep breath. Arkngthand was just across that bridge. She would make a run for it.

It was as she crossed the Dwemer bridge that she caught the full force of it. Visibility was limited to the hand she held in front of her face, and she could not breathe. She lifted the collar of her shirt up over her nose, creating a filter to keep the ash out of her mouth and lungs. Wind roared in her ears. The dust and sand stung her squinting eyes and the ash pelted her with such force it felt as though dozens of tiny pebbles were being flung at her.

It was a relief when she finally reached the ruin, though it wasn't far from the bridge. Through a lull in the storm she could see it clearly spanned a vast distance underground. _And it was supposed to be small?_ Peculiar bronze towers stood all about, some leaning so precariously it was a miracle they were still standing. A pipe jutting from the ground held a single crank, which Hasphat had said was the only means of opening the heavy, dome-like doors to the ruin. With a bit of effort, she turned the ancient crank and ran as quickly as she could to the entrance, barely squeezing inside before the doors closed again behind her. Even through the thick metal doors she could hear the tempest raging outside. She shook herself firmly, attempting to loosen the dust and grime from her fur, but it was useless.

Arkngthand was warmer than Adanji had expected an underground ruin to be. In fact, it was almost sweltering. It seemed alien, with its geometric metal and rough stone cavern walls. Boxes and crates of Dwemer goods piled near the entrance suggested smugglers were present. _That's no good. I can't turn back now, not with that storm carrying on. _Adanji thought desperately.

She resolved to move quietly. If she could keep hidden, maybe she could leave when the storm died down, or maybe she could find a place to wait until the smugglers left? Then she could have all the time in the world to search at her leisure. As she slunk along the shadows, she heard bizarre buzzing noises. There was the occasional hiss of steam she could see clearly puffing from the many pipes that lined the walls or poked up out of the ground. A constant, grating screech and metallic ticking filled the air and all of it made her uneasy. Arkngthand seemed to be alive, its metal walls, gears and wheels gyrating of their own accord, like gargantuan metal innards powering some ancient, unknowable beast.

A gout of scalding steam suddenly erupted from beneath Adanji's feet and she nearly jumped out of her fur. Scrambling for solid ground, she had to clap her hands over her mouth to keep herself from crying out in alarm. She found herself face-down on the cool stone floor, and stood up shakily, tail lashing back and forth. Her feet hurt; she was certain the pads had been burned.

"You hear that?" A voice echoed from below. Adanji held perfectly still, jaw clenched tight as she held her breath.

"Hnn?" Silence. "Naw... This place's makin' yeh jumpy." Adanji chanced a glance down over her stone platform, noting that she was well hidden in shadow. There were two men below, a Nord and a Redguard from the look of them. They were sitting near a small fire, over which a leg of nix hound was cooking on a spit.

"Ha. You got that right." The Redguard shuddered, "Hope Boss finds what he's lookin' for soon."

"That puzzle box'll fetch a nice price from the right buyer. Be patient."

_Puzzle box?_ Adanji's eyes widened. If these smugglers were hunting for the same box she was, then she was glad she'd decided against waiting for her armor. In two weeks, the puzzle box would likely not even be there anymore and she would have no way of tracking it down. Unfortunately, that meant she would have to find the puzzle box before the smugglers did, which would be dangerous; smugglers weren't known for sharing.

Adanji waited, breathing slowly and silently, ears strained for the tiniest sound. She hoped to sneak by the smugglers when they were asleep, but the hours dragged by. She heard a number of conversations between them, the awkward sort of small-talk one makes when silence gets uncomfortable. It was soon clear to her that the two had no love for each other, no sense of camaraderie. They were in it for the money.

She heard the scrambling of feet on gravel and peered over the edge to see the men leave the cavernous chamber below, climbing up a ladder and into a smaller room to the east, likely in search of more artifacts. She waited longer, until their voices disappeared, then slunk down a circular ramp carved into the cavern wall, down into the chamber. Her heart was beating heavily now, as she saw just how many doors there were to the place, each leading to a different room or hallway. Arkngthand was huge, and the Dwemer puzzle box was small. For all she knew, it was buried under rubble.

On a hunch, she rifled through the bags the two smugglers had left near the fire, hoping that perhaps one of them had already discovered their prize and was keeping it all for himself. She emptied one sack and found nothing of value– mostly clothing and the like. She was rummaging around in the other when heard voices returning and she spun about, staring wildly. She was out in the open, clearly visible in the firelight.

The men had seen her. Fear rooted her to the spot.

"Did Boss hire any Khajiit on this little expedition?" The Redguard asked, drawing his sword.

"No." The Nord gripped his axe, a nasty smirk pulling the corners of his twisted, scarred lips. "How much yeh think she'd be worth on th' slave market?" Her fur stood on end.

"Too scrawny for that. She'd be useless, but my wife's been wanting a new coat!" Then, as if on cue, two lunged at her, weapons raised.

Adanji regained control of her legs just in time to dart out of the way, claws digging into the ground, scrambling for purchase. She tripped over a large stone, cutting her hands on the gravel when she fell. She spun around just in time to throw herself back as a sword slashed where her chest had been- she felt it slice a thin line down her torso anyway. It stung, but at least it wasn't fatal. Desperate, she snatched a handful of gravel, among it a sizable rock, and threw it at the Redguard. He cried out as the bits of rock caught his face, hand clapping over his eyes where the gravel and dust had temporarily blinded them. He unintentionally backed right into the Nord, stomping on his foot in the process.

With the two men distracted, Adanji regained her footing, gripping her dagger firmly in hand, though it felt as though she may as well have been wielding a feather, small and helpless as she was against her assailants. With the Redguard still distracted, even being pushed aside by his exasperated Nord companion, the Khajiit decided it would be best to focus her full attention on the Nord, who was again swinging his axe at her. It was a slow, clumsy weapon, but it would be deadly if it hit her, capable of lopping a head from its shoulders. She dodged left and right, ducked low, each move driving her away from her enraged opponent.

Unencumbered by armor or heavy weapons, Adanji didn't tire as quickly as the Nord, who was noticeably slowing down, panting and scowling at her in murderous rage. One last swing and Adanji was unable to back up any further, the cavern wall at her back. She ducked, feeling the axe swing dangerously close to her head, cutting a nick in her ear and clanging deafeningly against the stone wall. With the clear opening ahead of her, she lunged forward, driving her dagger deep into the Nord's stomach, luck finding a gap in the leather he wore. They toppled, Adanji finding herself on top of the Nord, who coughed up blood, but was still alive. He reached for his axe, which had clattered to the ground just out of reach, intent on taking Adanji with him. Panicking, she ripped the blade out of his stomach and thrust it up into his throat, through his mouth and into his brain. He twitched, let out one last, rattling breath and was still.

Adanji stood tremulously, retrieving her dagger with some effort, and spun to see the Redguard recovering, rubbing irritably at his eyes with the back of one hand, his sword gripped firmly in the other. Though his eyes were bloodshot, one of them bleeding, it was clear he could see her. He let out an enraged scream and charged, sword pointed at her chest. She rolled out of the way at the last moment, kicking the man in the side before he could correct his course. She should have stabbed him, she realized, but it was too late for that. He spun, swinging his sword in one controlled motion that clipped Adanji's shoulder.

Adanji screamed in pain, quite certain he had hit bone, and fell back, landing with the sound of crunching glass. Her heart raced as she glared up at the man. She had been lucky the blade hadn't hit a little higher, slashing her throat, but now it looked like he had the upper hand. He raised his sword, about to slash down at her when she kicked him again, this time her bare, clawed foot jamming right into his groin with as much force as she could muster. He crumpled, loosening his grip on his sword, and fell forward, landing onto Adanji's dagger right as she drew it to deliver a killing blow.

She panted, shivering as the adrenaline wore off and she began to feel her wounds. With tremendous effort, she pushed the dead Redguard up just enough to slide out from under him. She could have died, she realized. She could have died and it wasn't skill that had saved her. It had been pure luck. Another shiver ran down her spine and she reached down to the belt at her hip, hoping to find one of her potions there, but found to her horror that all the bottles had shattered at some point during the battle– probably when she fell. She was bleeding heavily and in a lot of pain and she had no idea if she could get to Balmora in time to reach a healer.

_I just killed someone. _A sob racked her body. _I could have died! _She realized she could still die from blood loss if she didn't find help or a potion and she could feel her pulse rising once more. Leaning forward, trying not to be sick, she frantically dug around in the knapsacks of the fallen men, hoping they might have had potions on them. There was nothing. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears, along with her pulse, and her breath came in deep and ragged– she was certain she would die here.

Suddenly the ring about her finger began to glow. She had gotten so used to its subtle gleaming and warmth over the past few weeks that she'd forgotten all about it. She had tried to sell it not two weeks after reaching Balmora, but had decided not to when she found that she wouldn't get more than forty drakes out of it. Now it shone golden like the sun and a strong vibration spread through her fingers, a gentle heat rushing through her body. Then agony gripped her and her throat closed around a gasp, leaving her to cringe silently as her wounds began to heal. Muscle and sinew stitched themselves together, blood flow slowed and stopped as scar tissue formed over the gashes in her body. Then the ring cooled and went dark, almost as if it had died, and the pain ebbed away.

She gaped at the ring in wonder. It had lost its glow entirely, and she had a feeling that it wouldn't be saving her life again any time soon. _Lucky._ Swims had often called her that, though she hadn't felt particularly lucky in some time. She remembered reading somewhere that those born under the sign of the Thief were commonly blessed with luck, though she had never put much stock in that theory. Yet if she hadn't noticed the ring glimmering in that barrel all those weeks ago, or had decided forty drakes were well worth it… She stood, shaking herself, and tried not to look at the bodies at her feet. Not seeing them didn't put them out of her mind, however, and after taking barely a step she doubled over and retched, shuddering yet again.

She put her hands on her knees to steady herself, and took long, deep breaths, slowly letting them out, then wiped her mouth. _They tried to kill me,_ she reasoned, _it was self defense. _Somehow that didn't do much for the guilt. She had fought people before, other beggars on the streets when times were more tough than usual. She'd lost a lot of fights and won some others, and perhaps winning that scrap of food had won her and Swims an extra day to live, and caused her opponent to starve. But she didn't know that for certain, and had never killed someone outright. Her fingers were still trembling.

She'd been sitting there in stunned silence for about an hour, the tears streaming steadily down her cheeks. She thought about leaving, puzzle box be damned, but that would get her nowhere. She needed the puzzle box to get Hasphat's information for Caius, and if she simply left after everything she'd just gone through then it would all have been for nothing.

She forcefully wiped away her tears and began her search with a new resolve, keeping to the shadows where possible. She didn't find any more opposition for some time, and began paying closer attention to the ruin itself. She'd found out where the buzzing noise had come from; unnatural lights hung above doors or were socketed into walls. They were pale blue, resembling magic, contained in glass tubes, but magic didn't hum– it chimed like a bell. The sole exception was when a mage summoned lightning, but this was too constant for that. Heat radiated from the lights like fire, and Adanji found it both fascinating and unnerving.

The doors to the place were all round and, as with everything else Dwemer, metal. They screeched when opened, and every time Adanji froze, perking her ears to pick up on any noise, eyes darting left and right in search of possible opposition. She found none, and though she had seen a number of interesting artifacts, she had yet to find the puzzle box. Finally, she came to the southernmost door in the west wing, and when she pushed it open, she saw the back of a bald, tattooed Imperial in heavy armor. It was no use hoping he wouldn't have heard the door creaking open, but she held her breath anyway.

"Frink, that you?" He turned, and after a brief moment of confusion, narrowed his eyes. "I don't remember hiring any Khajiit." His hand fell to the war axe at his hip. "Explain yourself."

"I was just exploring." She lied, simultaneously cursing herself for not thinking of a better one.

He studied her torn shirt, noting the blood stains in her clothes and fur, "And my men?"

Adanji realized there was really no use lying any more- the truth was obvious. He had seen it. "They're dead." Maybe if she was lucky he would be intimidated, but she knew that was probably too much to hope for.

He smirked. "Then I should thank you. That's more money for me, and fewer voices to silence." Adanji's fur stood on end at the malice dripping from those words. He gripped his axe in both hands and attacked.

All Adanji could do was duck and dodge. There was no way her dagger would penetrate his iron cuirass, and she didn't think she could get close enough to get at his exposed face and throat. He kept her on the defensive and she realized with horror that he had much more endurance than the Nord had. He didn't look as though he would tire any time soon and while Adanji's wounds were healed enough not to bleed, they were still tender, slowing her down. She would either have to flee, or think of an alternative quickly.

As she dodged another blow, the axe cut into a pipe, hot steam erupting from the rent. _There it is_, she thought. She snatched up the pipe, gritting her teeth against the mild pain from its heat, and aimed it directly at the Imperial's face. He recoiled from the blast of burning steam, arms flinging up to guard his eyes. Adanji dropped the pipe, lunging forward with her full weight and knocking him into the pile of rubble behind him. Another broken pipe jutted out of it, this one rigid and ending in a point. The pipe managed to puncture his armor and pierced a lung. Adanji backed away, hands balled into trembling fists, as he reached feebly for her throat, coughing up blood all the while.

A part of Adanji yearned to pick up his axe and cleave his skull with it, but whether this was a need to put him out of his misery or some twisted desire to get even, she did not know. She ignored it either way. Unlike the others, he was no longer in any position to harm her, and if she killed him now, even to end his suffering, it would feel too much like murder and she wouldn't be able to live with herself. It wasn't as though he wouldn't die soon anyway. She did her best to ignore his agonized, gurgling gasps for breath as she picked through the ruins, scouring the area for the little Dwemer cube.

Finally, she found what she had been searching for: a box, slightly bigger than her fist, apparently composed of copper and bronze, though it appeared as if it had been made only yesterday- there was no hint of corrosion. The Dwemer had disappeared millennia ago, a mystery for the ages, as Hasphat had mentioned. Little circular designs were imprinted into the cube, as well as some more angular, straight lines, which spanned the distance and connected the circular lines. It was also unnaturally heavy. Adanji couldn't help but wonder how such a cube could contain any information, let alone how one might obtain such information from its depths. She noticed an unusual silence had fallen and looked around, over to where the Imperial had been impaled. He lay still and silent as the grave. A shudder ran down Adanji's spine and she felt nauseous again. _Self defense._ She reminded herself firmly, though it hardly helped.

Standing, she dusted off the knees of her trousers and placed the too-heavy puzzle box into her satchel. She considered picking up a few of the other artifacts she'd seen and fencing them to Phane, but knew there would be too many questions about where she had found them that would be difficult to answer. All she truly wanted was to put the ruin behind her. The trip back to the surface was long, quiet, and uneventful. She was grateful for the latter. The ash storm had died down by the time she left, though ash and grime covered the ground in a thick layer all the way to Balmora. _Curious, _she thought. Ash storms, according to the locals, rarely reached Balmora, though they sometimes came close, and Adanji had never seen one come this far herself.

* * *

"Back for more training?" Hasphat said loudly as Adanji entered the basement. Adanji cocked her head to the side then, hearing what the problem was, peeked over her shoulder. They were not alone; a woman in light armor was in the corner, punching a meter-long, burlap sack stuffed with straw.

"Ah, yes." She said, trying and failing to sound enthusiastic.

"Could you give us some space, Flaenia?" Hasphat said to the woman. She glowered at him.

"You need a whole basement to train a scrawny little cat?"

"She gets stage fright. I mean– look at her! How could you blame her?" Adanji didn't react. Flaenia scowled, but after a few moments kicked the bag hard enough for it to fall from its hook and left. "Thank you, kindly!" Hasphat called after her, his gaze following her swaying hips as she went. He turned to Adanji and lowered his voice. "So, what do you have for me?" Adanji rummaged around in her satchel and handed him his prize. "Hmm, yes. This is exactly what I was looking for." Hasphat examined the box closely, though he didn't seem the slightest bit perturbed by its weight or design. After a long silence he finally looked up at her. "You alright? You look like something's bothering you."

"I had to kill people..." She said quietly, not even sure why she was telling this man her problems. He was in the Fighters' Guild. They killed all the time, for money and 'honor'.

"Ah! First time?" He clapped her shoulder, causing her to flinch and her knees to buckle. "Don't worry about it. It gets easier. And they probably deserved it anyway."

Adanji shook her head. She wasn't sure killing was something she could get used to, but if Caius' jobs continued along this line, she would probably have to. She didn't relish the idea. "I fulfilled my end of the deal," She snapped, a little more harshly than she'd intended, "Now what information can you give me?"

Hasphat withdrew his hand, all traces of humor gone from his eyes. "I don't have much on the Nerevarine Cult. I deal in facts, not silly prophecies and fairytales. Tell Caius that Sharn gra-Muzgob over at the Mages' guild would be a better person to ask about that. She knows all about native religion and superstitions."

Adanji's heart sank. She really hoped she hadn't just delved into a Dwemer ruin, risked her life and stolen others for absolutely nothing. She remembered Caius specifically mentioning that one of his informants had insisted the Nerevarine Prophecies were important. She had assumed that was Hasphat, but obviously she was wrong. "And the Sixth House Cult?" She asked a definite edge to her voice.

"House Dagoth is the Sixth House, the supposedly 'lost' Sixth House. In the First Age, House Dagoth betrayed the other Great Houses during the War of the First Council, and was destroyed for their treason. I can answer any questions you have, but I'll also give you some notes to give to Caius, and recommend some Sixth House references he should read." He scrawled something on a note that looked as if it had already been prepared and handed it to her.

She flicked open the letter and, as Hasphat made no attempt to stop her, read it through.

_House Dagoth is an extinct Great House. In the wake of the ancient Battle of Red Mountain, its leadership was revealed to have plotted treason, and was discredited. Many of House Dagoth died defending the House; those survivors who were faithful to the Great Council were redistributed among the other houses. The Temple says the ancient, legendary evil beings that dwell beneath Red Mountain in the Dagoth Ur region are the original leaders of this extinct house, sustained by some powerful, evil sorcery._

_'__Other References:_

_These books include references to the Sixth House and its destruction. The bookseller Dorisa Darvel over in the Commercial District might have copies._

_THE WAR OF THE FIRST COUNCIL_

_SAINT NEREVAR_

_NEREVAR MOON-AND-STAR_

_THE REAL NEREVAR'_

"What exactly can you tell me about the cult?" She said when she'd finished reading. She was a little disappointed that there were no clues as to why she'd been sent here, but she wasn't really surprised. She supposed that was the advantage of being pessimistic; surprises only came when good things happened, and then they were pleasant.

"I've heard something about a secret cult worshipping Dagoth Ur. They believe that the Tribunal are false gods who've betrayed Morrowind to the Imperials. The cult plans to overthrow the Temple and drive the Empire from Morrowind. They're outlawed by the Temple, the Great Houses, and the Empire. They're not very popular, as you can see. I've also heard there's some connection with smuggling... that they smuggle goods, or hire smugglers, or something like that."

Adanji thought again of Dralosa. There was the rumor that the woman had been arrested by the Temple... If the Sixth House Cult was outlawed by the Temple, maybe that was why Dralose had been arrested; she had specifically mentioned the Sixth House when her friend had drowned. But that seemed a bit drastic– arresting someone for even mentioning the Cult. Then there was Dralosa's friend, who had appeared to have gone mad. Adanji didn't want to think about what it could mean if some cult was affecting people's minds. "Are they connected to the disappearances and murders?"

He shrugged, "Seems like the most probable theory, doesn't it?"

"And Dagoth Ur? Who is that?" The name had appeared in _A Short History of Morrowind,_ but it hadn't exactly explained who he was.

"Dagoth Ur was the leader of the extinct Sixth House. I think he was once known as a hero- the right hand and advisor to Indoril Nerevar. Now, according to myth, he's the evil, immortal enemy of the Tribunal Temple cult. The Temple blames Dagoth Ur and his hosts for all the evils that beset the Dunmer and Morrowind. Dagoth Ur dwells in fiery caverns beneath Red Mountain, served by his kin and legions of monsters. Not much else is known about him, but there are whispers that the corprus is his doing, and has something to do with why so many people are going mad." He rolled his eyes in apparent disgust, "Local superstition and foolish nonsense. That's all."

Adanji wasn't so sure. She wasn't the most superstitious person in the world, but something about all of this caused the fur to rise on her spine.

"Is there anything else you need?"

Adanji shook her head, thinking about all he'd told her. She supposed if the Sixth House was truly behind the murders and disappearances, it might explain the Emperor's interest in them, but the mention of the possibility of an evil, immortal being sitting at its core gave her a sinking feeling. This was likely bigger than cults, and she was getting involved– possibly as more than just some courier. It was late– it already had been by the time she'd returned to Balmora– and she needed rest. In the morning she would swing by Dorisa Darvel's bookstore and see if she had any of the references Hasphat had mentioned, then report to Caius.

* * *

It was dark and the air was unusually still after the storm. A thick layer of ash still covered the ground, and in the pale moonlight it looked almost like snow, leaving behind footprints wherever anyone had walked in it. As Adanji crossed the middle bridge over the Odai into Labor Town, a dark figure grabbed her arm firmly. She whirled, too tired and emotionally drained to deal with some drunk– but then she saw the eyes.

The Dunmer who held her seemed in a trance. His pupils were so dilated that his eyes had become solid black. He spoke, and his tone was flat, as if in a stupor. "I am a Sleeper, one among thousands. I bring you a message. Dagoth Ur calls you, Adanji, and you cannot deny your Lord. The Sixth House is risen, and Dagoth Ur is its glory."

Adanji froze. How did he know her name? She had never seen this man in her life! Suddenly, cold dread sunk into her gut as if she'd swallowed a ball of ice. She jerked, trying to pull out of his grip, but it was like iron. Where were all the guards when she needed them? "Let go of me."

He began rambling, his tone never changing, though somehow he seemed to grow more excited with each word. "We are calling you. The Sleepers. The Sixth House. The Sleeping House. House Dagoth– the House of Lord Dagoth! The true house. The one house to welcome all true Dunmer, and drive the n'wah from our glorious land." Then his voice rose, and he was all but screaming. "Take heed, outlander! The day of reckoning is at hand. Take what you can and leave this place, for when Lord Dagoth comes, this will be no place for you."

"Yeah? Tell me more about this 'Lord' Dagoth of yours, will you? Seems like a really nice guy." She growled, attempting to use sarcasm to hide her panic as she clawed at his hand. She noticed it begin to slip, his grip loosening.

"He is the Lord, and Father of the Mountain. He sleeps, but when he wakes we shall rise from our dreams, shall sweep the land clean of the n'wah. Why have you denied him? As Lord Dagoth has said, 'All shall greet him as flesh, or as dust.'" A horrible, deranged smirk pulled his lips and he started to back Adanji towards the edge of the bridge.

Finally, she managed to wrench herself free. She felt the urge to punch the man or push him into the river, but more than that she just wanted to _escape._ As soon as she was out of reach she spun and fled as fast as she could, all the way to the South Wall cornerclub. She slammed the door shut behind her, leaned against it until she slid to the floor, and shook, tears springing to her eyes. Sobs racked her shoulders, shaking her body and disturbing the raw scars from her fight. She noticed her entrance had gotten her some curious looks from her guild mates, but she ignored them, resting her head in her palms.

"Is Adanji ok?"

She gazed up through blurry eyes to see Habasi standing over her. "Rough day..." She muttered, sniffling and drying her eyes.

The mastermind studied Adanji's tattered, blood-stained shirt and her disheveled appearance. "Habasi sees that." She helped Adanji to her feet. "You look exhausted."

"I am." She admitted.

"You want to talk about it? Habasi makes a good listener." Her tone was sincere.

Adanji gave her a feeble smile. It didn't stick. "Not right now." Probably not ever. While Habasi had indeed proven to be a good listener, Adanji didn't want her to know where she'd been since it was Blades business and, given the Guild's stance on killing, she did not want the Mastermind knowing what she'd done. "Thanks." It was tacked on but better than nothing.

Habasi nodded, choosing not to press the matter for once.

Adanji scarfed down a quick meal at Phane's bar, though she didn't feel particularly hungry, half heartedly laughed at one of Arathor's jokes, and went to bed.

Her night was fitful.

_She found herself in a dark room, a dim red glow all around her. There was heat- intense and sweltering. She could barely breathe. She looked up from where she was lying, and found that she could not stand. A man in a golden mask stared down at her. A voice- she was certain it came from the masked figure- began to speak, although it echoed deafeningly around her, so loud and rumbling she could barely understand the words. It sounded as if they were being spoken by thousands of men, all with the same eerily affable voice, which made it feel all the more menacing. _

_"__I AM THE SHARMAT!"_

_The ground shook when he spoke. It was as if Red Mountain was on the verge of explosion._

_"__I AM OLDER THAN MUSIC._

_WHAT I BRING IS LIGHT!_

_WHAT I BRING IS A STAR!_

_WHAT I BRING IS_

_AN ANCIENT SEA!_

_WHEN YOU SLEEP YOU SEE ME_

_DANCING AT THE CORE!_

_IT IS NOT A BLIGHT,_

_IT IS MY HOUSE._

_I PUT A STAR_

_INTO THE WORLD'S MOUTH_

_TO MURDER IT!_

_TEAR DOWN THE PYLONS_

_MY BLIND FISH,_

_SWIM IN THE NEW_

_PHLOGISTON._

_TEAR DOWN THE PYLONS_

_MY DEAF MOONS,_

_SING AND BURN_

_AND ORBIT ME!_

_I AM OLDER THAN MUSIC_

_WHAT I BRING IS LIGHT_

_WHAT I BRING IS A STAR_

_WHAT I BRING IS_

_AN ANCIENT SEA"_

_He reached toward her, his hand hovering inches from her face. All went black. _

Adanji awoke with a gasp. All around her, her guildmates slept, which meant it must be late in the morning. She must have gotten at least ten hours of sleep, though she felt as though she had gotten none. She fell back into her bunk, stretching her stiff, sore muscles and staring at the bunk above her, listening to the gentle breathing of her guild and taking some small comfort in it. She tried to remember just what had scared her so much, but the harder she tried, the less she could recall. It was like trying to grasp at water or wind. She shook her head in frustration, then took a few calming breaths.

Tired or not, she had to get up and get her information to Caius.

* * *

**((A/N: Here's chapter three! Please don't hesitate to tell me anything I could improve on. This chapter was beta read by the lovely Breatheslowlyyourealive. You should check out her Skyrim fiction, "Of Fear and Fates".))**

**((A/N 2: Some text taken directly from in-game sources. Most obvious example is the book "A short History of Morrowind," which I thought contained relevant information, particularly useful for people new to Morrowind. Other text from the game includes a large portion of Hasphat's dialogue. All this copyright to Bethesda.))**


	5. Ch4: Getting a Head

**Getting a Head**

Adanji had scoured the whole bookstore and, as Dorisa had told her, not one of the books she had asked for were anywhere to be found. The Dunmer had apologized one last time, hoping she would not lose a customer, and Adanji left. Maybe the books weren't there for a reason? Maybe the Temple didn't like them? It didn't matter, Adanji thought, putting her conspiracy theories firmly out of her mind. She had the information Caius had requested and the list of books he might wish to read were in the note. It was entirely likely he had the books already, or had sources that could find them.

As she drew near Caius' house she saw an Argonian with a missing toe and a bad limp leaving the building. He stopped briefly on seeing her, and gave her a knowing look before departing. Adanji assumed this must be Nine-Toes, one of the Blades whose name was on the list Caius had given her. That felt like forever ago. She nodded once, briefly wondering why he was there, then pushed her curiosity aside– it was probably Blades business. Adanji knocked on Caius' door, yawning as she waited for him to open up. This time she was ready when it opened and slipped inside swiftly so he could slam it shut behind her again.

"You have the information."

Adanji nodded before realizing it wasn't a question and handed over the notes. "But he didn't have information on–"

"The Nerevarine Cult. I know." He skimmed the notes before fixing her with a hard stare. He waved to a chair- the only one in his house that wasn't covered in books. "Have a seat."

She eyed him suspiciously but, after a brief hesitation, did as she was told. The chair creaked with her every movement. She suspected that if she were only a few kilos heavier, it would break. Maybe Caius ate standing, or on his bed? It did seem that his seating was generally used more for book storage than anything else.

"How are you, Adanji?"

She raised her brows, puzzled by the question. She'd come here expecting it to be all business and wondered if she was in trouble again, for whatever reason. "I'm… fine?"

He leaned in a little, scrutinizing her, "Hasphat sent word ahead of you. He said you might not be up to our kind of work. You killed, yesterday? Felt guilty about it?"

_Ah_. She should have known. Caius was the Blades Master, after all, and had eyes and ears everywhere. Of course he would know more than he let on at any given time. It didn't stop her from flinching at the question, "... Yes. When I did that 'favor' for Hasphat. Did you know your informant is into smuggling Dwemer Artifacts?" She wondered briefly if that would bother Caius as much as her being in the Thieves Guild apparently did, but he didn't appear shocked or upset. He just waited patiently for her to talk. She sighed. "I had to kill people yesterday. I've never done that before. It was in self-defense, but..." What right did she have to take a life? What made her own life more important than anyone else's, even if that person was a murderer?

"The guilt won't last." He placed a hand on her shoulder, "It _shouldn't_ last. When you do work for the Blades, you'll only be killing enemies of the Empire, or killing to defend yourself." He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, "_Both_ are a worthy cause." He let his hand drop and Adanji felt a tight knot form in her chest. "If you continue to work for the Blades– and even your own guild– you will have to fight people, and, yes, sometimes kill them."

"My own guild?" Her eyes narrowed a little, "The Thieves Guild is strictly against killing."

His expression became grim, "Don't be naive. Your Guild is in too deep. The Camonna Tong is gathering allies. It won't be long before you have to fight to protect your guild mates, and yourself. You'll need to be ready when that day comes."

The fur on the back of Adanji's neck stood on end. "They're making a move?"

"Not now, but it won't be long." There was a long silence while Adanji processed the information, then Caius drew her attention once more to the present, "Adanji. Do you think you can handle more work for me?"

"Ha. Do I have a choice?"

"You always have a choice, but every choice has its consequences. Your work for us will be dangerous, but rewarding. You will have to kill, yes, but it will be for a good cause. If you choose not to stay on, you will have to go back to Cyrodiil and live out your sentence for your crimes and face punishment for treason against the Empire."

"So there _isn't _a choice," Adanji said with a wry smile, "At least, not one that isn't obvious." A month ago, before she had gained any respect or semblance of friendship with her guild, and before she had begun to feel that she might have some worth, she would have accepted his offer. She would have returned to Cyrodiil, even if it meant facing execution. But now her guild was her home and her family, and she wanted to protect them. If that meant she had to stay on with the Blades as well, she would do that.

Besides, there was something about the way Caius treated his underlings. Adanji did not want to disappoint him, as stupid as that felt. "I'll stay."

"Good. Tell me what else Hasphat had to say about the Sixth House."

She took a deep breath, pushing aside her distress for the time being, and recounted everything Hasphat had told her. "I even looked for those books at Dorisa's, but she didn't have any of them. You don't think the Temple banned them, do you?"

He fixed her with a stony gaze, "Careful who you ask such questions. Bring up the wrong subject around here or ask the wrong person the wrong thing, and they might lock you up." He relaxed a little, "But it's a perceptive question nonetheless, one for which I have no answer. The Temple's getting jumpy about a lot of things lately, so who knows?"

Adanji yawned for what had to be the hundredth time that morning.

"I'm sorry, is this not interesting enough for you?" He growled.

She started, taken aback. "Just tired." She said defensively. "Been having disturbing dreams..." Now he looked worried. In fact, he gaped at her as though she'd grown an extra limb. She was reminded of the way Habasi had reacted when she'd told her the same thing. "What is it? I know the locals have been ranting about nightmares and going crazy, but I'm pretty sure I'm still sane..." At least, as sane as she'd ever been. "Although… I can't help but wonder if they're linked to the Sixth House." She said it in a joking manner, though she did have her suspicions, what with all the crazy that had happened just in the last few days. She certainly wasn't going to forget about that 'Sleeper' any time soon.

He shook his head, "That's another thing you really shouldn't bring up around the Temple. Or any Dunmer for that matter. The locals are humorless bastards. Start talking about dreams and _visions_ and they'll think you've got the soul sickness– in other words, they'll think you've gone mad. You start talking like these dreams _mean_ something, they'll think you're some sort of prophet or witch, and they'll cart you off to the Ministry of Truth for 'healing.' Take my advice; Keep a lid on it."

Adanji was a little bit hurt by his reaction, but kept that hidden and just nodded, biting her lip. She supposed he had a point. If the Temple really had dragged off Dralosa Athren just for mentioning the Sixth House while recounting her friend's apparent bout of insanity, then it was likely they would drag Adanji off somewhere, too, if she wasn't careful. She didn't appreciate being treated like an idiot, though.

"I've sent word along to Sharn gra-Muzgob," Caius said, breaking the silence, "She'll be expecting you. As I'm sure you can guess, your next assignment is to get information on the Nerevarine Cult from her. She's very smart, for an Orc, and very well-read. She'll probably have some favor for you, like Hasphat did. Do it and come back with whatever she can give you."

"Ok– I mean– yes, sir." It still sounded odd to her, the formality a stark contrast to the more relaxed Thieves Guild.

"A word of warning; Sharn's into some… dark arts. If you wind up having to kill anything for her, chances are it's already dead."

Adanji froze. "_Necromancy?_" She wasn't sure what she felt about dealing with the undead. Actually, she _was_ sure. She was sure that she did not want to. But she had just told Caius that she would remain with the Blades and didn't feel like backing out now. Besides, the mere possibility of death had far better odds than the certainty of it.

He nodded, "Now, the locals take a dim view of necromancy. If they knew about it, they would probably drag her out into the streets and stick her in a fire, so don't _tell_ anyone."

Adanji wondered just how many secrets she would be saddled with in this line of work, but nodded.

"Just be careful."

* * *

Really, all Adanji wanted to do was sleep. She wished she had requested at least a day of rest, rather than jumping right into her next assignment. Then again, she was almost afraid to sleep because of the nightmares. That was stupid. Dreams weren't _real_, it wasn't as though they could hurt her. Yet both Caius and Habasi had reacted poorly to the news of her unnerving dreams, both expressing concern. Caius had tried to hide it, claiming it was mere local superstition and the only danger would be the Temple's reaction to it, but now Adanji really thought about it, she had a sneaking suspicion that there was more to it than that. There must genuinely be something _wrong _with her. The last thing she wanted was to turn up dead, the source of the latest gossip one morning, forgotten the next.

Frankly, she wasn't entirely keen on working with necromancers, either. Necromancy hadn't exactly been illegal in Cyrodiil, but there had been rumors that the Mages Guild was moving to ban its practice. That a guild dedicated to blowing things up on a fairly regular basis and constantly running hazardous experiments would ban anything was pretty indicative of its dangers. Still, it wasn't long before she found herself standing at the Mages' Guild doorstep.

As soon as she entered she was assaulted by a heavy, sickly-sweet stench of something brewing. The air was thick with fumes of many different colors, floating and swirling near the ceiling. Adanji clapped her hands over her mouth as she sneezed, her eyes watering. She had to wonder how anyone could concentrate in such a haze.

"Oh, _great!_" Adanji heard a piercing female voice say, "Another Khajiit! I hope you aren't here to join the guild. I have enough trouble with Ajira as it is." She turned to see an unusually tall Bosmer glaring at her with her black beady eyes.

Adanji blinked, taken aback, then narrowed her eyes. "No. I am not here to join your precious guild. I'm here to speak with Sharn gra-Muzgob. Now can you tell me where she is, or do you plan on insulting me all day?"

"Sharn? The Orc? Ugh, she's almost as bad as Ajira! _Almost._ Damn Khajiit thinks she's a better mage than me? I'll show her when I make journeyman before she does!" She continued ranting and Adanji, feeling a headache coming on, massaged her temples with two fingers, eyes squeezing shut.

"Look," she growled, "Can you tell me where to find Sharn or not?"

"Hmm? Oh, right. She's in the basement, doing 'important' research. She's very rude, you know. Don't expect a warm reception from her."

"Oh, yes! I wouldn't want to deal with someone who's rude, or anything." Adanji said, barely concealing her sarcasm. "I think I'll come to you for help more often, since you're such an expert on manners, and all."

"What– really? Thank you!" the Bosmer said, missing Adanji's tone completely, startling the Khajiit with her sudden change in attitude. "No one else really _gets_ me, here. Hey– you think you could do me a favor? Ajira's writing some alchemy reports, and–"

"Maybe later," Adanji lied, "I have to get down to Sharn."

"Hmph!" she sniffed, "Well, ok then. Talk to you later!"

Adanji did indeed find Sharn in the basement. This was where the fumes were coming from, she realized, and where the stench was the strongest. Just breathing it made her head swim and pain started jabbing her just behind the eyes. She lifted the collar of her shirt up over her nose, but that did little to filter the air. "Excuse me," She tapped the Orc on the shoulder, "Sharn gra-Muzgob?"

The Orc rounded on her, her face a picture of fury. Her face, which would normally be a grayish-green, was now purple, and her tusks were bared in a snarl. It was enough to make Adanji jump back a few paces, "I _cannot_ think with all these interruptions! _Please_ leave me alone!"

"But–"

"No. No interruptions!" She flung her hands up into the air, "How many times–"

"Caius sent me!" Adanji interrupted as quickly as she could.

Sharn paused mid-sentence, then relaxed visibly, her cheeks returning to their original color. "Oh. You are one of Caius' associates? That is a different matter." She motioned for Adanji to follow her to a secluded corner of the guild, out of earshot of the other mages. Adanji wasn't sure why the Orc bothered. Everyone seemed too preoccupied with mixing potions, chanting spells, and writing various notes to pay them any heed. "Caius and I have a very satisfactory arrangement, and I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement, _if _you will complete a little errand for me."

"Caius said as much. What do you need?"

"It's very simple." The Orc peered around conspiratorially, then lowered her voice to a hiss, "I need the skull of Llevule Andrano. You'll find it in Andrano Ancestral Tomb. But take care not to upset the natives. The Dunmer have some peculiar primitive prejudices against necromancy, and take grave objection to unauthorized tomb visits."

"A– a skull? You need a skull?" She felt a little dirty. First she'd been sent to smuggle something, now she was grave robbing? Caius had said it was all for a good cause, and she wanted to believe him, but she was having her doubts. "And I can find it in a tomb?" _That's obvious, _but she tried to keep her voice as even as possible. It didn't help that she was tired, which frayed her nerves. "How, exactly, am I supposed to tell it apart from all the rest?"

"There may be many skulls in Andrano Tomb," she conceded, "But you'll have no problem recognizing Llevule's skull from the ritual markings."

_Ritual markings?_ "Who was this man?"

Sharn shrugged. "Nobody important." Adanji was certain it had to be a lie. Why else would she specifically need his skull, out of countless others? Lie or not, though, it wasn't her business. The information was.

"Where can I find the tomb?"

Sharn heaved an exasperated sigh, clearly growing impatient with all of the questions. "It is south of Pelagiad. Northeast of Seyda Neen. Take the road, follow the signs. The tomb is just off the road, to the right if you're heading there the Pelagiad route. You may need an enchanted blade– some spirits are immune to normal weapons. Damned locals are hypocrites. For all their complaints of necromancy they have no qualms with summoning spirits of their ancestors to protect their tombs..."

"Oh! That reminds me–" Adanji took off her ring and held it out. She hadn't had much time to ponder its enchantment yesterday what with everything else she'd been dealing with, but now she was at the Mages' Guild, which was probably the best place to ask about enchantments and how they worked. "I had a question about–"

"What's this? Is that supposed to be enchanted or something? If you have a question about that, you'd better see Galbedir. She's our enchantress."

"Galbedir?"

"The Bosmer in poncy over-priced robes. Always hangs out by the entrance- seems to enjoy scaring away potential customers. Fine by me, but Ranis doesn't appreciate it." Oh. Adanji had already met her then. "Here. Take this old shortsword. It's still got a spark to it, and should handle those spirits nicely. I have no more use for it. Maybe these scrolls will come in handy, too. Those three have fire spells. This one is an Intervention scroll. Use it only in case of emergency, if you need to make a quick escape. They're single-use. If you use any of them, I'll want you to pay me back."

Adanji nodded, taking them gratefully and noting the difference between the fire and intervention scrolls before slipping them into her pack.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Get going!"

Adanji was happy to do as she said just to get out of the thick fumes. When she reached the top of the stairs, she took a deep breath, grit her teeth, and approached Galbedir.

"Hello again." She forced what may have been the most painful smile she'd ever worn. "I had a question."

"Really? You're asking _me_ a question?!" She sounded so excited, as if her guildmates never spoke to her. Adanji didn't have to guess why. "How can I help you, Khajiit? Oh! I never got your name!"

"Adanji. That's not important–"

"I'm Galbedir."

"So I've heard."

"You've heard of me? Oh, no, they haven't been saying anything _bad_ about me, have they?"

"Um– listen, I'm in a bit of a hurry. Sharn sent me to you to ask about enchantments."

"Oh! She did? Well, I do know all about those."

Adanji held out her ring, letting the Bosmer take it and inspect it closely. "It's enchanted already, but it seems to have... died. It saved me from some pretty nasty wounds yesterday– I didn't even know it could do that."

"You didn't… do anything to activate it?" Adanji shook her head. "It must have reacted to your stress. How nasty were these wounds?"

"Well, I had two very deep cuts from a sword…" She cut herself off. She didn't want to reveal too much or have to answer too many difficult questions. "That's not important. I'm alive because of that ring, but before it healed my wounds it was warm and glowed like a star. Now it's cold and, as you can see, doesn't glow at all."

"I find it difficult to believe a ring with such a simple enchantment could have healed such extensive wounds… it must have taken its entire charge to do that."

"The enchantment is simple? How do you mean?"

"Well," Galbedir puffed herself up, clearly delighted to know so much that Adanji did not, and continued as if the information she had to share should have been obvious to anyone, "It's only meant to heal very small cuts, like one might get when they turn a page too quickly, or jerk back on a fishing line and slice open their fingers. That sort of thing. It makes sense that the whole thing would have been sapped if you really were bleeding as much as you say you were." She snorted derisively, as though she doubted a scrawny little Khajiit could have survived a papercut, much less a gash from a sword.

"So… is it dead?" She wasn't sure how else to put it. It wasn't as though it were a living thing, enchantment or no, but she didn't think the word 'broken' would work either.

"Dead? Well, it has no charge, but that should take care of itself. Just leave it alone for awhile– in your case, it should take a solid month before it can heal anything major. Or you could hire me to recharge it. It would require a filled soul gem, which you would have to pay for, and time, which is not cheap. Or you could buy a new ring with a better enchantment from me."

"How much would that cost?"

"Oh, at least two thousand drakes for a recharge. Over a thousand for a ring that would do you any good. I… don't suppose someone of your, ah, _dress_ could afford it?"

Adanji bit back a scathing remark and muttered, "No. That's a bit out of my price range."

Galbedir handed the ring back, clearly disappointed. "Well then, you aren't getting my services for free. Guess you have to wait."

"Guess I do." Adanji said evenly. She supposed it was better than nothing. Her ring wasn't broken, it just needed time to recover, and she didn't have to pay the Bosmer anything. She was happy to get out of the guild hall and into the fresh air. Aside from the wind-swept layer of ash covering the ground, all traces of the previous night's storm were gone. The sky was as clear and blue as sapphires and a gentle breeze ruffled her fur, carrying with it the sweet scents of the Bitter Coast. She took a deep breath, tilting her head back and closing her eyes against the warmth of the sun. Days like this were becoming rare in the early-Frostfall weather.

* * *

With the exception of a few annoying, shrieking cliff races swooping down to peck at her, Adanji's trip was mostly uneventful. She'd enjoyed the beauty of the grasslands that mingled with the swamps of the Bitter Coast. Colorful emperor parasols loomed high above her, tangling together in clusters between oak, maple, and cherry trees. Where the hills sloped downward in the distance, she could see the clash between the bright colors of the grasslands and the dark, marshy greens of the swamp. She watched a few netch drifting about, their magical, blue vapors and vine-like tentacles trailing lazily behind them. She had learned that, of all of Morrowind's wildlife, these floating jellyfish seemed to be the most peaceful, so long as it wasn't mating season.

She passed Pelagiad on her left and it was starting to get late. She hadn't exactly had an early start that morning and had spent a good deal of time in the bookstore and at Caius' house after that. Despite her long sleep the previous night she was exhausted, and the tiresome hike hadn't helped. She hesitated, briefly, then spun on her toes and returned to the small town of Pelagiad. Though the town was not much larger than Seyda Neen, it had a lot more shops and a massive Imperial Fort around which it was built. The houses and even the shacks were better built, too. When facing the Fort, Adanji could see a trader and an armorer to her right, and to her left was a two-story inn, which looked inviting; the melodic, muffled sounds coming from inside only added to its appeal.

The sign swinging outside the inn read "Halfway Tavern." She wondered what 'Halfway' was referring to, and guessed that perhaps it marked the halfway point on the road between Balmora and Vivec, which she could barely see towering on the southern horizon, a great mass that was pale and gray in the distance. She was probably wrong, but her guess was as good as any. When she opened the door she was greeted with warmth from a fire crackling in the hearth, the alluring scent of food, and the sound of laughter and voices exchanging the latest gossip. A band of five bards was playing in the corner, their guar-skin drums, lute, and flutes combined to make a charming, playful tune which danced around the tavern, filling it with life.

Like South Wall, there were tables set up where people were gambling or playing shells, but she doubted the debts incurred got as high here, or that they were even expected to be paid off. Unlike South Wall, there were no exotic dancing girls, which, if she was being honest, she didn't miss at all. She made her way to the bar, navigating between the drunken crowd.

A Dunmeri lady stood behind the bar, washing a glass tankard and smiling politely at an overeager, drunken Nord who was attempting to make small talk. She looked relieved when Adanji interrupted the man to get her attention.

"Ah! Yes, Khajiit, what can I do for ya?" She seemed much friendlier than most of the local Dunmer, but for all Adanji knew she could have been an outlander just like her.

"I would like a room, please."

"How long?"

"Just for the night."

"I'd pay a lifetime'sh rent jush to see yer boooti-full shmile ev'ry day, lass!" the Nord slurred, slamming his mug down on the counter. He gawked, stupefied, when the handle broke off.

"That's nice, hon," the Dunmer said with a deceptively honeyed voice, though her teeth were clenched. "Would ya be a dear and clean up yer mess?"

"'Fraid thash yer job, Miss. If yeh wouldn' mind leanin' in reeeal closhe when yeh wipe that up I'd be much obliged." He leaned over the bar, a nasty grin on his flushed face.

That did it. It was the last straw. The Dunmer nodded curtly to someone behind the Nord, and a tall Dunmer male in dark armor wrapped an arm around the Nord's throat, pressing a dagger to his back. Adanji didn't hear the threat he whispered in the barbarian's ear, but it was enough to make the Nord squirm. He screamed an apology at the publican and was dragged outside.

"I'm very sorry about that," Said the Dunmer. "Ya said just one night?"

"Yes..." Adanji had to pry her eyes away from the door, wondering just what was going to happen to the lecher. Then she decided she didn't care and returned her attention to the publican. "Just tonight."

"That'll be ten drakes."

Adanji counted out the coin and handed it across the bar, "You get a lot of that around here?"

"Sometimes. Nelos does a good job of keeping things… civil, though. We rarely have anyone that rude." Nelos must have been the armored Dunmer who had come to the publican's rescue. "Is there anything else I can do for ya, sera?"

Adanji ordered a Mazte and roast hound meat, then ate in relative silence, listening to the buzz of rumors milling about the tavern. She heard a rumor that Nelos was a bandit who was only working for Drelasa, the publican, to pay off a debt. A Khajiit female in the bar was having trouble with a bunch of thugs. A Bosmer thief had been captured and was being held at Fort Pelagiad, where some swore they heard screaming. A Nord upstairs kept to herself and was supposedly a part of a Daedric cult. A merchant was acting shifty and having secret meetings with one of the local guards. The rumors were endless.

"Yeh read the latest news?" Said a man at a nearby table.

"What's that?" Said a Breton, leaning in with interest.

"Strange happenings, tha's what. World's comin' to an end! Even says it, right here!"

Adanji peered over at the two men who had taken up residence at the table beside her. Under the arm of the Breton who was leaning on the table, she saw a leaflet they were reading. In bold headlines, it read:

_**'Is It The End of The World as We Know It?**_

_**Cliff Racers, Nude Nords, and more!'**_

She raised a brow at the title, both amused and intrigued. It was too far away for her to read the story itself, but she didn't have to, as the Breton started reading it aloud.

"Citizens of Morrowind have noticed a marked increase in the vermin that is the cliff racer blackening the skies like the ash from Red Mountain itself." He snickered and read on, "As if the creatures were not enough of a nuisance before, now their presence has become a nightmare to deal with. Local experts suggest traveling in large groups or via silt strider to prevent being carried off! In accordance with this strange increase in racer population, a rash of nude Nords have been found wandering the lands of Vvardenfell, each claiming to have been hoodwinked by some witch. 'Now, we all know Nords are not the brightest in the best of times,'" The Breton's friend nodded in agreement, "'But this many nudists with the same story is just abnormal!' Bolvyn Venim of house Redoran says.

"On top of this disturbing news, now we have Wood Elves falling willy-nilly from the skies! Tarhiel, known member of the Imperial Mages Guild, was found dead near Seyda Neen, splattered from what must have been a great fall." He rolled his eyes. "Naked Nords and flying elves… world's gone mad, if you ask me."

"'S all in good fun. Yeh don' really take those leaflets seriously, do yeh?"

The Breton scoffed, "Hardly. Though I wouldn't put it past a Wood Elf to muck up a simple levitation spell, and I _have_ seen an unusual number of Nord nudists about."

Adanji smiled at the exchange. She hadn't exactly expected the most reliable news, but this was just sad. She finished her meal, took the key Drelasa had given her, and went upstairs to her room. The bartender had said it was the last room on the left.

* * *

She'd slept better that night. At least she felt somewhat refreshed when she woke. She set out early, leaving her room key at the counter with Nelos, who was watching the bar. She asked if he sold potions, which he did, and purchased three. "Have a good morrow," he called after her as she left. In the distance, the sky had taken on a pink hue, hinting at rain. She drew her clothing about her against the morning chill, and made her way out of town and to the south.

The Andrano Ancestral Tomb was not far, only a half an hour's walk south. The entrance peeked out of the mountainside, into which the tomb had been carved. The ornately designed archway and wooden door leading into the tomb evoked imagery of certain parts of the female body, though she would never mention such a thing to the locals.

She was vaguely reminded of Arkngthand when she entered the place, though it looked completely different. It wasn't the appearance, but the feel of the place. Where the Dwemer ruin had ticked and hissed, this place had a life of its own. It whispered. It _breathed. _It was enough to set the Khajiit's teeth on edge, and she flinched at every sigh that wasn't her own. Places of dead were supposed to be silent. She crept forward, shivering both from cold and fear. It didn't take much effort to stick to shadows, at least, as the whole place was dark, only lit by the occasional wall sconce, flickering dimly over the sarcophagi.

Urns lined the corridors, some sitting atop the sarcophagi, others on pedestals, and still others in nooks carved into the walls. In the shadows ahead of her, Adanji suddenly saw a flurry of dust motes being kicked up by something that wasn't there. _Or by something invisible…_ she thought with a shudder. She gripped the hilt of the enchanted shortsword Sharn had given her, ready to pull it from its sheath, and kept going, her jaw set.

The walls seemed to press in around her. The air was thick and suffocating as she pressed on, and every noise– every soft footfall, every shallow breath– sounded unbearably loud to her straining ears. She flinched at the sound of a pebble being kicked across the floor by a careless foot, silently cursing herself for her misstep. She stood rigid, heart racing, eyes bulging. She was certain she saw a shape floating just out of the corner of her eye, but every time she turned her head to get a better look, it was gone. She expected that whatever had disturbed the dust moments ago would show itself now, but minutes passed and all was silent. She swallowed and took one tentative step forward.

A sudden, bloodcurdling scream caused Adanji to jump into the air and a figure materialized in front of her. Its shriek was matched only by her own when it charged at her. Adanji had no time to react as the creature pushed right _through_ her, sending a chill through her bones like ice, causing her joints to lock up in agony. Survival instincts kicking in, she pushed past the pain, trying to ignore it as she whirled, cutting an arc in the air with her blade as she faced the wraith.

It shrieked and rushed at her again, but this time Adanji's blade reached it first and, to her astonishment, it connected. Sort of. It dragged a little, like trying to hit something under water. The blade glowed like an ember and a surge of light enveloped the wraith. It screamed one last time as it was engulfed in flame and exploded in a maelstrom of magical energy, leaving behind nothing but a glistening pile of ectoplasm. Slowly, warmth returned to Adanji's limbs and the pain ebbed away. She was shocked at how easy it had been to kill the thing, and noted that she had a certain advantage. She felt no guilt over killing the dead.

Such an advantage seemed weak, however, when the creatures could become invisible, move through solid objects and turn her insides to ice. With a deep breath, she continued picking her way through the labyrinthine tunnels. She found herself wishing she had brought a ball of yarn, or something she could leave behind as a trail. Though she took mental notes of every turn she made, it eventually became hopeless, especially with the distractions caused by the occasional wraiths swooping in to impede her journey. Though simple enough to vanquish, their cries never got any less terrifying.

She stopped in her tracks. Somewhere ahead of her, she could hear something. It wasn't the whispering or moaning of ghosts, but creaking; a dry, dusty rasping and clicking. She crept on, keeping herself pressed against the wall, blade at the ready. Holding her breath, she peered around the corner and fought back a gasp. Skeletons. Three skeletons, ambling around like marionettes guided by the invisible strings of magic– guarding their domain. She would have to get by them if she wanted to get the skull and Caius' information. She was liking this place less and less.

Gripping her sword tight enough for the hilt to bite into her palm, she slunk around the corner, keeping out of the light that emanated from nearby candles. She wasn't even sure the creatures could hear or see, but she was not inclined to take that chance. At least for the moment they didn't seem to detect her. The wraiths had had an uncanny ability to find her even in the blackest of shadows.

As she squeezed past one skeleton just inches away, it stopped and turned its head to follow her, tracking her with its chilling, eyeless stare. She stared back, her tail lashing in apprehension, wondering if its apparent detection of her had something to do with proximity, or if she was just imagining its gaze following her every move. Then, without warning, it rasped at her– all it could do without lungs or vocal cords– and attacked. Its dried up joints creaked and moaned in protest with every move it made, and when Adanji rolled out of the way it crashed into the wall with a resounding clatter. It shattered, its bones scattering all over the floor. Adanji gawked, and then broke out into hysterical laughter before remembering where she was and silencing herself.

The two remaining skeletons, drawn by the noise, came running, blades raised. Heartened by the previous skeletons easy demise, she ducked under the first blade, countering with a slash that sent the skeleton's head flying from its shoulders. It fell with the same resounding clatter as the first. As the third attacked, she plunged her blade through its empty eye socket, its skull cracking and bursting into flame. The creature was quickly reduced to dust before her feet. It seemed the undead were fairly weak, however terrifying they were. All it took was a good enchanted weapon to set the wraiths ablaze and a little bit of force to break apart the skeletons.

Now the battle was over, she felt the stinging pain in her cheek and across her forearm, telling her she had been hit by one of the skeletons, but it was nothing serious. She could drink a potion later, assuming the wounds didn't already close up by then; she didn't want to waste them in case she came across something worse.

Despite the eerie whispers that still caused her fur to rise, Adanji continued on her course with an unusual sense of confidence. The Tomb only grew colder and darker as she descended, and she was more thankful than ever that she could see with little trouble in the dark. The whispers grew louder, too, and she began to wonder what they were saying, though she doubted she wanted to know.

Finally, after what felt like hours, she arrived at a large chamber. Her breath came out in white puffs and a chill ruffled her fur. The whispers here were almost deafening. In the center of the room she saw what must have been a shrine. Lit candles were set up all around a basin full of ash, which occasionally stirred as though of its own accord. All around the basin were trinkets– possibly family heirlooms– and flowers. It appeared that the grave had been visited recently, the wax only burnt halfway down the candles, the flowers still fresh, though they rested atop some dry, dead ones. In the middle of it all sat a skull, mysterious symbols engraved into its forehead and coiling down around it like a crown.

The skull of Llevule Andrano.

With a minor sense of guilt and growing sense of apprehension, Adanji scooped up the skull. A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach when the whispers stopped, leaving her in silence, and the candles flickered out. The stench of rotting flesh caught her nose and made her gag. She whirled, and though it was almost pitch black she could make out a horrible figure shuffling toward her from the door. It was some form of undead, though she had no idea as to what it had actually been in life. It had been skinned, blood oozing thickly from the muscle and sinew. It looked as though the skeleton had been ripped from its body, all the bones snapped in two, and then jabbed back into the flesh at odd angles to create an abomination. The mere thought of it was enough to twist her gut, but the _sight_ of the tortured creature and the squelching, gurgling cry of rage it made as it shuffled toward her filled her with a sense of dread.

While she felt she might be able to outrun the thing, she had no clue if she would find her way out of the Tomb before it could corner her. It was then that she remembered the scrolls Sharn had given her. Specifically, the Intervention scroll. What was it Sharn had said? Use it if she needed a quick escape? With trembling fingers, she dumped the skull into her bag and pulled out the scrolls, flipping through them until she found Intervention and dropped the rest into the sack. She backed away from the lurching, twitching beast as she fumbled with the scroll, and– dropped it.

It landed with a dull thud on the dusty stone floor, bounced, and rolled into shadows. Crying out in alarm, Adanji tore after it. She pounced, cat-like, and snatched it off the floor, whirling to face the monster, her back finding a corner of the chamber. When she looked up, a scream tore involuntarily out of her throat- the creature's twisted face was inches from her own. She could see the flesh that was once its face dangling off its jaw, swaying sickeningly as it let out a gurgling battlecry. It pulled back its arm, slowly, angling the twisted, broken bone toward her throat like a makeshift blade. Without another thought, Adanji threw open the scroll and as soon as the words were visible shouted the inscription, desperately praying that it would work, because if it didn't she was dead. Just as the creature's arm came down, the scroll burst into purple flame, starting from the ink and then spreading out, the magic consuming it, then coiling up her arms and licking at her face.

She didn't see the rest. Her body became weightless and everything spun around her in a whirl of light and color. She lost all sense of space, with no clue of what was up and what was down, and while she wanted nothing more than to escape the whirlwind, she felt like it would be a bad idea to move. In a flash it was all over. She landed on solid ground heavily, and collapsed. Her stomach was doing somersaults and the world didn't seem interested in standing still, but when her vision cleared she saw that she was back in Balmora, sitting in front of the Tribunal Temple. The sky was overcast and it was sprinkling.

She was safe. Nine! She was safe! Relief swept through her and she stood, stumbling into the Temple wall. She just leaned there for a moment before trying again. She still felt weak in the knees, but she could walk. The light, cool raindrops soaking her fur and rolling down her face actually helped soothe her nausea.

"First time teleporting?"

She turned her head, and wished she hadn't, clapping her palm over her eyes. She swallowed, blinked a few times, and nodded. She was afraid if she opened her mouth she would vomit.

"Well, you'll get used to it."

She got a better view of the robes of the Dunmer who was talking to her, noting the downward-pointing triangle and the three Daedric symbols emblazoned on her chest, and realized she was a Priestess. "Not sure I want to..." she managed to choke out.

"I felt the same way, first time I used an Intervention spell. Better feel a little sick than get eaten by kagouti, though, am I right?"

Adanji hadn't seen a kagouti yet, so she didn't know what one was. She had heard that they looked like corprus-eaten guar, but since she– thankfully– hadn't seen the effects of corprus, she couldn't picture it with any accuracy. She just nodded again. It was sound reasoning. Better to feel a little sick than be killed by a horrible beast from the depths of Oblivion– or anything, really.

"Not very talkative? I understand. Almsivi guide you, outlander." The Priestess bowed, then entered the Temple. It took Adanji a moment to realize that had been the same Priestess who had glared at Dralosa Athren before she had been carted off to the Ministry of Truth. She suddenly felt relieved she hadn't said much to the woman, feeling she had been the one to order Dralosa's arrest.

* * *

"You're back." Sharn led Adanji back to her cloistered corner, her voice hushed. "You have my scrolls?"

Adanji handed Sharn the fire scrolls, "I had to use the Intervention scroll. How much will that cost?"

"Two hundred drakes. You have my skull?"

Adanji handed her the money, as well as the skull, glad to part with the latter. "I hope that's the one you were looking for, because I'm _not_ delving into any more tombs for a while."

Sharn took the skull and examined it for what seemed like ages, tutting to herself. "No, it isn't I'm afraid. You'll have to go back for the real one."

Adanji felt queasy. "What?"

"Ha! Only joking, Khajiit." She grinned, pointy teeth showing. "This is exactly what I wanted. It's perfect for what I had planned." She placed the skull in a chest, careful to lock it securely before turning back to Adanji. "Thank you. As promised, I will answer any questions you have."

"I'd like to know about the Nerevarine Cult."

"Obviously. Anything specific?"

"Anything you can tell me would be nice."

"Yes. Of course. It would be wise to keep this quiet, though. I doubt my guild mates would care, but this is a subject the locals do not take lightly. You should probably get a quill and some parchment… here. Write it down so you can tell Caius everything. Don't let anyone else get their hands on it, though, if you value your life."

Adanji took the parchment and the quill, wondering why Sharn hadn't just written everything down herself, but didn't complain. It could be potentially suicidal to annoy an Orc– especially an Orc who dealt in necromancy. Adanji asked her questions and Sharn answered each one precisely, rattling off the information as if she were reading it from a book. By the time she'd finished, Adanji's hand was cramped. She reread her notes, checking with Sharn for any discrepancies.

_'The Nerevarine Cult_

_This Ashlander religious cult follows prophecies of a Nerevar reborn to honor ancient promises to the tribes, to reestablish the traditions of the Prophet Veloth, to cast down the false gods of the Tribunal Temple, and to drive all outlanders from Morrowind. Both Temple and Empire outlaw the cult, but it persists among the Ashlanders, despite Imperial and Temple repression. Because it is persecuted, it remains a secret cult, and it is hard to judge how widespread it is among the Ashlanders, or whether it has any following outside the Ashlander tribes._

_The Nerevarine_

_The Ashlanders firmly believe that Nerevar will return to restore the glories of ancient Resdayn. (Morrowind was called 'Resdayn' before the Imperial Occupation.) The Ashlanders say the Great Houses and the Temple have abandoned the pure teachings of the Prophet Veloth, forsaking ancestor worship for the false gods of the Tribunal, and embracing the comforts of civilization that corrupted the High Elves. The Temple, on the other hand, venerates Saint Nerevar, but rejects the 'disgusting' notion that the False Incarnate will walk the earth like a ghoul._

_Nerevar_

_The Temple honors Saint Nerevar as the greatest Dunmer general, First Councilor, and companion of Vivec, Almalexia, and Sotha Sil, who united the Dunmer Houses to destroy the evil Dwemer, the treacherous House Dagoth, and their Western allies at Red Mountain. But the Ashlanders say Nerevar promised to honor the Ancient Spirits and the Tribal law, and that he will come again to honor that promise. To the Ashlanders, this means destroying the false Temple and driving the Imperial invaders from the land.'_

Adanji had to wonder; if Nerevar had truly destroyed House Dagoth, why was it still a problem now? The Temple seemed to enjoy keeping such concerns hush-hush, so perhaps the house had never truly been eradicated? Or perhaps some upstart group was using the Sixth House as a guise to throw authorities off their trail? That still didn't explain the disappearances or the strange, entranced Sleepers shuffling about.

If this Nerevarine was real, though, that might explain why the Emperor wanted information on him. Maybe he hoped to find the Nerevarine, real or not, and silence him, so that the Empire would not be driven from Morrowind? It wasn't much to go on, but at least it seemed to make some amount of sense. It was widely rumored that the dragon's blood that flowed through Uriel Septim's veins gave him a special view of what was to come. Others said that he watched the stars closely for anything that may affect his land. A fanatic who wished to drive out the Empire could stir up a lot of trouble in a province that hated outsiders.

_'Nerevarene Prophecies_

_Dream visions and prophecies are a respected tradition in Ashlander culture. Their wise women and shamans take careful note of dreams and visions, and pass on the tribe's legacies of vision and prophecy to their successors. By contrast, the Temple and the Western faiths are suspicious of mysticism, and they regard interpretation of dreams and visions as primitive superstition._

_The most common version of the Nerevarene Prophecy is THE STRANGER. The verses are obscure, as are most prophecies. But two observations are in order._

_First, many less-well-informed scholars assume that the phrase "journeyed far 'neath moon and star" is just a cliché to suggest a very long journey, but the Nerevar of legend was known to possess a magical ring named "One-Clan-Under-Moon-and-Star," upon which Nerevar is supposed to have sworn his promise to honor ancient Ashlander traditions and land rights._

_Second, the reference to "seven curses" must certainly refer to the lost prophetic verses known to the Ashlanders as the SEVEN CURSES._

_The Stranger _

_When earth is sundered, and skies choked black,_

_And sleepers serve the seven curses,_

_To the hearth there comes a stranger,_

_Journeyed far 'neath moon and star._

_Though stark-born to sire uncertain_

_His aspect marks his certain fate._

_Wicked stalk him, righteous curse him._

_Prophets speak, but all deny._

_Many trials make manifest_

_The stranger's fate, the curses' bane._

_Many touchstones try the stranger_

_Many fall, but one remains.'_

'Many Fall but one remains...' Adanji stared at that last line for a while, certain she had heard it before, but for the life of her she could not remember where.

_'Lost Prophecies_

_Ashlander elders complain of prophecies which have been lost to tribal memory due to the carelessness or ineptitude of earlier generations of wise women and ashkhans. Suspicious scholars wonder whether these prophecies might have been deliberately forgotten or suppressed. Three Nerevarine prophecies in particular are said to have been lost: 1. The Lost Prophecies; 2. The Seven Curses; and 3. Seven Visions of Seven Trials of the Incarnate. Perhaps these lost prophecies will someday be found, either in forgotten accounts written by literate travelers, or in the memories of isolated Ashlanders, or in the secret traditions of the wise women and shamans.'_

"Is there anything else you can tell me?" Adanji asked, "About Indoril Nerevar himself, or his 'incarnates?'"

"Like I said. Nerevar is an ancient hero of the Dunmeri. He triumphed over Morrowind's enemies at Red Mountain, but died in the battle." She put a hand to her chin, pondering for a moment, "There are conflicting accounts of his death, but that happens with time, as history gets muddled with myth. The Temple refers to any who claim to be Nerevar Reborn as the 'False Incarnate'. It treats such persons as insane, and Ordinators pursue and imprison them 'for their own protection.'" She scoffed, "The Temple has reported that the most recent False Incarnate, a girl child named Peakstar, has died, but they've produced no body, and skeptics are suspicious of Temple's claims."

That sounded disturbing. Why wouldn't the Temple display the girl's body in the streets as a warning to other heretics? Maybe the Temple actually hadn't had anything to do with Peakstar's death. Or maybe they had simply wanted her to disappear, and were really keeping her prisoner somewhere? But if they were genuinely so threatened by false incarnates, why wouldn't they just kill her and be done with it? Adanji had the distinct feeling that the more questions she asked, the fewer answers she would have, and the more likely she would be to die in a fire. "I think that's everything I need. Can you read over my notes and make sure they're accurate?"

Sharn snatched the papers from her, "Very good," she said at length, handing them back to her. "Though, you misspelled 'Nerevarine' twice." Adanji had noticed that in her reread, but had hoped no one else would. "You saved me a lot of time by writing this for me. Thank you. Now take this information back to Caius and let me get back to my research."

* * *

Adanji noticed it was almost always dark when she was returning to Caius' house. _Maybe it's a sign– 'get out while you still can!'_ She thought with a wry smile. This time, however, the dark sky was due to the heavy rain, which had washed away much of the ash, rather than the hour. She stepped inside and latched the door behind her before Caius could beat her to it and handed him the papers.

"You're back sooner than I'd expected." He flashed her a half-smile. "Let me see those… This isn't Sharn's handwriting. Not loopy enough."

"It's mine," Adanji admitted. There was silence as he read her notes. She glanced around as she waited, taking in the mess that was Caius' house. It looked like some of the books had been moved around, and he had some new ones stacked on the table, some lying open. A sheaf of parchment was set aside with a quill where it looked like the spymaster had been taking notes.

"You misspelled Nerevarine... Two times, actually. Here and here," He didn't have to point it out for Adanji to know where. She just sighed.

"My hand was cramping," she said in a lame attempt at an excuse.

Caius grunted.

"Seems like both cults are illegal and want to rid Morrowind of outlanders." Adanji said, "Guess I shouldn't be surprised– seems like everyone here wants us gone."

"Not everyone," he said as he finished skimming the notes, "But most of the local Dunmer, yes."

"Why?"

"They're proud. Conservative. Stuck in their ways. Nobody likes change and they like it even less when it's forced on them. Morrowind has been conquered for quite some time, but the Dunmeri have long lives and long memories, and they pass their hate to their children. Then there's religion. Westerners worship the Nine, the locals have their Tribunal, and that's a whole new topic we have no time for and I have no desire to get into."

Some things had to change, Adanji thought bitterly, whether the locals liked it or not. For starters, she would enjoy the place a lot more if slavery were abolished and the Camonna Tong were destroyed or disbanded. Not that either of those things would be happening any time soon. "Why does the Empire stay here if the locals hate it so much? It's not as though Morrowind is particularly hospitable."

"Many reasons. Dwemer ruins provide artifacts, which may offer some valuable insight to the Empire. Rich deposits of malachite and ebony ore greatly benefit the crown. Our mutual understanding prevents war and chaos," It all sounded rehearsed, Adanji thought, like he had tried to convince himself of the very same thing. "Plus," Caius added, "We enjoy seeing the lesser races on their knees."

Adanji glared and crossed her arms, unimpressed.

"That was a joke." Adanji had never pictured Caius as the sort to jest. "Anyway, there are plenty of reasons for our arrangement, even if it's a bit shaky at the moment. Too much to get into right now."

She sighed. "Right. Is there anything else you need?"

"No, but I am promoting you to Blades Apprentice, Adanji, you've done well." Though she tried to hide it, she felt a small amount of pride swelling in her chest on hearing this. "Now give me some time to think how this fits in with the Emperor's plans for you."

His wording troubled Adanji. She had wanted to believe that none of this was really about her. She was nobody important– she had worked so hard in the past weeks to convince herself that it had not _literally_ been the Emperor who had ordered her release. She had reached a far more logical conclusion that the Emperor, or one of his ranking officials, had simply meant for a random criminal to be sent to Morrowind as an expendable pawn for some as-of-yet unknown scheme, and she had just so happened to draw the short straw. Maybe it was just a figure of speech?

"Next time you come to me I'll want you in peak condition, ready to handle anything." Caius' voice intruded her thoughts, prying her back into reality. "Go and do some jobs for your guild, enhance your cover identity, get some training and come back in a few weeks. I'll have something for you then."

* * *

**((A/N: Sorry for being so late with this update. ****Please don't hesitate to tell me anything I could improve on. This chapter was beta read by the lovely Breatheslowlyyourealive. You should check out her Skyrim fiction, "Of Fear and Fates".**!))

******((A/N 2: Some text taken directly from in-game sources. Most obvious example is the book "A short History of Morrowind," which I thought contained relevant information, particularly useful for people new to Morrowind. Other text from the game includes a large portion of Hasphat's dialogue. All this copyright to Bethesda.))**


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